


Astute And Alive

by VVSIGNOFTHECROSS



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:29:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 51,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS/pseuds/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhaegar Targaryen is a complicated man, is he a mad man as Robert Baratheon believes, a Silver Prince as Connington laments, or is he a man, with a man's emotions and faults?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Vision Of What Is To Come

**7 th Month of 283 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Prince Rhaegar Targaryen**

Rhaegar had never thought it would come to this, truth be told he had never really thought it would come to war. He had not stopped to think that his father would truly be so mad as to execute a Lord Paramount and his heir, nor had he stopped to think on what he knew of Brandon Stark. Truth be told his naivety was embarrassing for someone such as him. Rhaegar knew he had failed in one of the things he had promised himself he would never fail in, he would not allow himself to fall to the madness, the madness his father had willingly embraced, but as he thought on it now, he could see just how mad he truly appeared. It horrified him, it truly did horrify him, and he was not sure if he knew just what to make of all that had come and gone. He worried for Elia and their children as he had never done so whilst at the Tower, and that, that made him despise himself, Aegon was in grave danger, but his father in a fit of madness or rare sense had sent Rhaenys back to Dragonstone, not wanting something so overtly Dornish in his presence, and yet he kept Elia there, determined to use her to make Doran send men.

Rhaegar looks at his wife and son then, and he feels a deep well of regret. He looks at her and says. “I am sorry Elia, truly I am. I never meant for it to come to this. I…I did not think.”

His wife looks at him, her eyes hard. Her voice is remarkably soft though when she replies. “No, you did not did you? You never do, do you Rhaegar? It is something that has happened now, and we must accept that whatever may come will come.”

“You are not angry?” Rhaegar asks

His wife laughs. “Why should I be angry with you? I knew you were going to take the Stark girl, I am angrier with myself that I did not see just how wrong that could go. I should have heeded Ashara and told you of what Lyanna Stark’s brother truly was. That I did not is my fault, and my fault alone.”

Rhaegar shakes his head. “You could not know that. Ashara, she…she has always been careless with her words my lady. It is not possible for us to know how someone such as Stark would react. Considering his father was all for this marriage, one would have thought the son would know.”

His wife laughs once more. “Surely you have realised by now Rhaegar that fathers do not always tell their sons the things they need to know. Brandon Stark is a clear example of that. And you, you are another.”

Rhaegar is surprised by this and asks her. “What do you mean by that? How am an example of that folly which the Starks seemed to have developed so well, that my cousin’s father seems to have ingested so well?”

Elia looks at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Your father never told you things, things he has been saying since you disappeared. He speaks in his rages, and there is a fear of mine that he means to spread a rumour that could well end us all. Tywin Lannister is not one to take such a thing lying down, and with Ser Jaime here, I do not know what could happen.”

“Rumour?” he asks. “What rumour? What are you speaking of Elia?” Rhaegar asks.

His wife takes a deep breath and says. “Of what happened when Lady Joanna was still alive and at court, of a dalliance that happened when Lord Tywin was away on business as hand. Of the children that might have come from that dalliance.”

The implications of her words, hit him hard then. “No that cannot be true. My father is many things, but surely he is not mad enough to do something such as that? He must know saying such things would only endanger us all.”

Elia laughs bitterly. “I do not think your father much cares. He believes himself a dragon, a man who knows no fear, does not care to hold his tongue. You told me that once, do you remember?”

Rhaegar looks at his wife and his son then and says. “I will get you out of here before I leave Elia I promise you. If it is the last thing I do, you will leave from King’s Landing.”

His wife merely looks at him and asks. “And where will I go? Your father’s men watch me more than they do you. And that is because I hold your heir. I will not leave without Aegon, Rhaegar, and we both know that Aerys will never allow Aegon to leave.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? How can I leave you here, and go knowing that if I die, you will all die?” Rhaegar asks frustrated.

“I did not think you would go for the fighting.” his wife says her voice cold. “You never did take an interest in most of those things before, I was not sure now would be any different.”

No matter how true her words, they stills ting. He looks at his wife, and asks. “When did we become like this Elia? Why are we arguing now?”

“What would you like me to do Rhaegar? I cannot keep up the act for much longer. The whole damn realm knows that you took Lyanna Stark, and her betrothed is fighting a war. Maybe for her maybe not for her, but all know that I was spurned for lack of being able to give you another heir. Another one of your heads.” Elia says her voice bitter.

Rhaegar feels stung then. “Elia. I…” he does not finish though for the door opens and Ser Jaime enters.

The young knight looks nervous then. “My prince, I am sorry but your time is up. The time the king gave you is done.”

Rhaegar looks at the young knight. “Very well, thank you Ser Jaime. You may wait outside.” he stands and looks toward Elia and their son and whispers. “I will see you safe Elia, I promise.”

His wife does not reply, sighing, Rhaegar turns toward the door and walks out. Ser Jaime is there waiting for him, and as they begin walking Rhaegar asks. “Tell me Ser Jaime, what do you know of your father and my father’s relationship?”

The knight looks apprehensive, and Rhaegar curses himself for yet another mistake. He should have spent more time with this young man, just as Arthur cautioned. The knight replies calmly. “I know they were friends once, before something happened, that is all I know my prince. Why do you ask?”

Rhaegar hesitates for a moment and then enquires. “Tell me Ser Jaime, why did you join the Kingsguard? I know my father nominated you, but why did you want to become a member of the Kingsguard?”

The knight visibly hesitates for a moment then. “I joined because, the Kingsguard was an institution that growing seemed to be very ideal of knighthood and chivalry. We all grow up hearing about the stories of Ser Duncan the Tall, Ser Alyn Connington, Ser Corlys Velaryon, all of these people are told to us, and we learn about their feats. I wanted to fight amongst some of the best knights in the realm, I wanted to be a knight worth something.”

“You did not want to be Lord of the Rock?” Rhaegar asks intrigued.

Ser Jaime shakes his head. “That life is not for me. My brother Tyrion would be far more suited to such a thing than I could ever be. I only ever wanted to serve.”

Rhaegar nods. “A noble thought Ser. Now tell me, if I were to ask you to protect my wife and child with your life, would you?”

Rhaegar has stopped walking now, as has the knight, and they look at one another intensely. “Yes Your Grace, of course. I would give my life for theirs, without any question.”

Rhaegar looks at the man intently. “Do you swear by all that is holy? On the Seven, and on your brother’s life, that you would protect them above all else?”

The knight nods with fervour. “Yes Your Grace. I would not abandon them, not even if my own father was asking me to open the gates of hell to him.”

Rhaegar claps the man on the shoulder, feels the solid weight of the armour and says softly. “You are a good man Ser Jaime. Never forget that, even when the day becomes dark.”

The knight nods and they walk in silence until Rhaegar comes to his bastard brother’s room. His brother Aurane, is a cut throat, Rhaegar has always known that, and if his father had had his way, Aurane would be the one who was Prince of Dragonstone, but Aurane, well Aurane was never much interested in anything other than fighting and fucking. That is why Rhaegar has come to him now. He looks at his brother and says. “You are ready?”

His brother smiles cockily. “I was born ready brother. Now tell me, which move should I use to kill Baratheon?”

Rhaegar looks at his brother and says. “You are not supposed to kill him brother. We have been over this, you are merely meant to injure him and make it seem as if you are fighting to win. To win would to be throw all else into chaos.”

His brother merely looks at him and says. “You are no fun. How did you manage to get those two children from your wife I do not know? But nevertheless as you command sire.”

Rhaegar watches as his brother puts on the armour, and walks out the room. Rhaegar remains in the room for a moment, and then he walks out as well. Ser Jaime is there waiting, watching as Aurane greets Ser Jonothor Darry and then moves on. The young knight is silent a moment and then he asks. “Are you sure it is a wise move to trust him Your Grace?”

“Aurane? Oh he is most definitely a cut throat, but he values our family more than he does anything else. Furthermore, he knows his name would never go down in history anyway, and he has always wanted to fight. So no I do not think it is unwise. I merely think it prudent. Now be on your way, I must go.” Rhaegar replies.

“Are you sure Your Grace?” Ser Jaime asks.

“I am, we cannot alert the spider to this. Now go on and do not wait for me.” Rhaegar replies. The knight hesitates, but then he inclines his head and walks forward and away from Rhaegar. Rhaegar waits a moment and then he slips back inside his brother’s room and exchanges his clothes for the clothes his brother prefers, they look alike somewhat, so it should not be hard to slip away, especially with the commotion of the army departing. Once he is changed, Rhaegar, slips out the back way, the way he and his brother used to move for Summerhall, and he walks quickly, not stopping for anything. Eventually he comes to the Dragon Gate, and nodding to the man on the walls he begins making his way out of the city.

He stops and turns around, looks at the city, and toward Aegon’s High Hill where Elia and his son sit, and he says softly. “I will return for you Elia, I promise you. I will not forget, no matter that Doran forgot.” With that he takes a deep breath, turns and walks out of the gate, and away from the place that has been his home for his whole life. He does not turn round once.

* * *

 

**8th Month of 283 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

Sometimes he woke up screaming, his nightmares were becoming far more prominent. They were etching themselves inside his very being, and he did not know how to escape them. They were a torment, a living breathing reminder of the sins he had committed. Murder, treason, all of this was filling his mind now. He could not sleep, Ned wanted so desperately to sleep and yet he could not. Something was stopping him from sleeping, the image of Princess Elia and Prince Aegon’s bodies there before the throne was something that tormented him daily. He, did not know how to handle that, he was not sure he could. The worst thing of all was Robert, Robert who had changed during the war, had gone from being his brother, to being a stranger, a monster. Robert who condoned the killing of innocent children, who would laugh with Tywin Lannister, and Jon, gods he did not know what to think anymore. He was not sure he wanted to.

“I cannot remain here Jon.” Ned says finally, his thoughts not allowing him to speak any more clearly. “Robert is turning into something I cannot stomach, and I do not think I want to know what he will become with Tywin Lannister here. I do not understand why you have to allow the man pardoned for his crimes, or his son.”

“Not this again Ned,” Jon says. “Surely you can see the sense in not antagonizing Tywin Lannister. The man did us all a favour by ensuring that the city was taken and that a threat was removed, he has made the throne more secure for Robert. As for Ser Jaime he did what we all wanted to do.”

“How can you say that Jon?” Ned asks surprised. “Where was the honour in the killing of innocents? The Lannisters killed without a thought for who was guilty and who was innocent. Gregor Clegane raped Princess Elia for god’s sake man. Ser Jaime broke his oaths to the Kingsguard, he killed his king. Such a man should be sent to the god’s damned wall, not rewarded.”

“Do not be so foolish Ned.” The Lord of the Vale says sharply. “You know it needed to be done, Ser Jaime did us all a favour. As for Lord Tywin, he too did us a favour, and now Ser Jaime remaining in the Kingsguard, is a sure way to ensure Tywin does not get any ideas about supporting Prince Viserys who remains on Dragonstone.”

“Viserys is but a child. What threat can he pose?” Ned asks.

“If you must truly ask that Ned, then I do not know how to help you. You are more naïve than what I thought you would be considering all that has happened. Why do you continue to try and protect the Targaryens when they are the reason for us being in this situation? Rhaegar is dead, and his death is justified for the raping of your sister and the deaths his actions caused.” Jon Arryn says.

Ned looks at this man in surprise and says. “I do not know what to think anymore. You are not the man I know Jon. Neither you or Robert are the same people you were before this war began.”

“No, we have grown and realised the truth of the world. It is you who is naïve Ned, you who is clinging to something that is not real.” a voice says from behind him. Ned tenses and sees Robert standing there.

“Your Grace.” He says stiffly.

“You know what I say is true Ned, I am merely speaking the truth. You are clinging to something that is not real, has never been real. It makes good sense to ensure that the Lannisters are kept happy for the time being. They helped take this city, punishing them for something we were going to have to do anyway makes no sense Ned.” The king says.

“You would have allowed the sack to happen? The killing of innocents, of children and women? Of the Princess and her son?” Ned asks.

“They were not innocent. Those dragonspawn were working for him.” Robert spits. “They did his bidding, they were his. They had to die. For Lyanna, for Lord Rickard, for Brandon. Do you not see that Ned?”

“All I see is butchery and murder. I do not see the justice you claim it is Your Grace.” Ned replies. “I see cold blooded murder, and I want no part of it. I want to find my sister and to return home to my wife and son.”

Robert shakes his head then. “You are too naïve. Too damn honourable, too good for your own good. It will bring you nothing but pain Ned. Why can you not see that?”

“Because I am not butcher Your Grace. I hope you enjoy your time here, I have other things to do.” Ned says turning to leave.

Before he exits the room though Robert holds up a hand and says. “You will go to Storm’s End first, end the siege there and get the Tyrells and their men to swear fealty, and then you may go and find your sister.”

“Yes Your Grace.” Ned replies. “Is there anything else you wish for me to do? Shall I bring Lyanna here to King’s Landing?”

There is a long moment’s silence then before finally Robert speaks. “There is actually. Do not bring Lyanna here. She is spoiled goods now, after the dragonspawn has been through with her. I am a king now Ned, I will not have another man’s left overs. I will marry someone else. You can deal with Lyanna however you want.”

Ned feels a deep seated anger flow through him then, he feels the urge to hit Robert, to break him into pieces, but instead all he merely says is. “Yes Your Grace.”

Still Robert does not let him leave. His parting words are even more blood curdling. “And Ned, if you find a child, kill it.”

Ned merely nods and storms out of the room. His men are waiting for him outside the city, they say nothing, and his expression is dark and cloudy. “We ride for Storm’s End.” he says loudly and then spurs his horse on and rides for the castle. His thoughts are a whirlwind as he rides south. He does not know what has become of Robert, what has happened to his friend, all he knows is that he does not know him anymore. He does not know Jon Arryn anymore. The man who raised him would never have condoned the killing of children, would never have allowed such a farce to happen. The man who raised him would have spit on the very thing that he allowed. He remembers something his father once told him about Jon Arryn. _“The Arryns claim to be as High As Honour, but in truth they are no different to us. They will fight and lie as any Lannister. Jon Arryn is no different Ned.”_ He had argued with his father about that, had claimed Jon was different, now he sees just how wrong he was. He misses his father, his father would never have allowed such a thing to happen. His father would have killed Robert for saying the things he said about Lyanna today. But Ned, Ned only allowed it to happen, he did nothing to stop it.

His men and his army can tell there is something not quite right, but they do not speak on it, they merely allow it to go unchecked, and as they continue their journey south, Ned feels his anger grow. Robert has become corrupt, but then again there was always the chance he would be corrupted, that was something Ned knew would be a risk, but he had always thought Jon would be there to negate it. Now he realises that perhaps Jon had always been there pushing Robert toward the darkness. He does not know why or for how long he has been blind to this, but now that he can see somewhat more clearly, he realises that there is much and more that has been kept from him. Benjen’s confession at Winterfell when he came home to call the banners, the note from his father, all of it makes sense now. Anger grows inside of him. Anger at Robert, at Jon, at Lyanna, at Rhaegar, at them all. They made their plans and now he is left to deal with the mess. He knows where Lyanna is being held, a message in the night, a caress in the dark, all of it makes him wonder whether he has been led astray, whether the south holds any truth to it. If there is anywhere that holds any truth in it.  Storm’s End comes and goes, the Tyrells dip their banners, and the castle is replenished with food and supplies. Stannis Baratheon knights a smuggler who prevented the castle from dying of starvation and Ned sends word to King’s Landing, and also leaves instructions for Lord Stannis, to build a fleet to go to Dragonstone. Ned sends the army under Lord Umber to return home, he sees no reason why they should continue to tarry, not with the war done. He chooses Howland, Mark, Willam, Martyn, Ethan and Theo to come with him to where Lyanna is being kept.

They ride in silence once more, Ned’s mood darkening as they come through the Stormlands, passed Summerhall, where Tywin Lannister it is said showed just how treacherous he could be, and then into Dorne. That Rhaegar Targaryen would keep his sister of all places, Ned thinks just shows how mad the man must have been. Either that, or he was very, very bold. For Ned can think of no greater insult. He calls his men to a halt when he sees three men in white cloaks and white armour standing outside the tower, armed and waiting for him. He and his men dismount and he speaks. “Greetings, I have come for my sister.”

The men look at him a moment and then a man he knows to be Ser Gerold Hightower speaks. “Have you come here on orders of the Usurper?”

Ned thinks of Robert’s words before he departed the capital, and in that moment a deep rage fills him. “I have come for my sister. Now give her to me, or I will kill you.” he barks.

Hightower merely looks at him and asks once more. “Have you come on orders of the Usurper?”

“No! For God’s sake I have not. I have come to get my sister and take her home.” Ned growls, his anger beginning to grow.

He sees the three knights tense at his tone, feels rather than sees his men tense as well, but then he hears a voice, and is surprised when he sees Lyanna walking out of the tower, a babe in her arms, and this is where he believes he is seeing things, a man with silver hair and violet eyes looking at him, his arm around Ned’s sister. “Let them be Gerold. Lord Stark is here for his sister, but we must speak.”

The three Kingsguard knights look at Ned briefly, and then back at their prince, and then they move back, allowing Ned to move forward. Ned looks at the man and then asks. “How? You were slain at the Trident, I saw you die.”

The man laughs softly then. “That was my brother Aurane. He took my place, for I knew something might happen if I were not here when you came Lord Eddard.”

Ned stares at the man and then says. “You allowed your wife and son to die.”

A hard look passes over the man’s face. “I did not want that to happen. I did not think Tywin would do such a thing. But he will pay for that in the end. But it does no good to speak of such things now. Now do you wish to speak with me, or do I need to have you killed?”

His sister who had been quiet until then squeaks then, Ned looks at her a moment, so many emotions pass through him at that moment, but the main one is relief. He looks at her and then at the bundle in her arms. “Are you okay Lya?” he asks softly.

His sister nods. “As well as I could be Ned. I and Jon are well.”

“Jon?” he asks.

“Our son, your nephew.” Lyanna says.

Ned looks at the bundle in his sister’s arms and then looks at Rhaegar and asks his voice tight. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing my lord. I merely wish to know if you will take myself and my wife and son before your friend?” the man asks softly, phrasing it all so lightly.

Ned looks at the man, and then at his sister, and then at the child in her arms. A tuft of hair shows, and as Ned looks more at the child, he feels his heart stop. The babe looks a lot like him, a lot like Lya, a lot like Benjen did as a babe. He stares at the babe. ”Would you like to hold him Ned?” Lya asks.

Ned nods numbly, and soon finds himself holding his nephew, he stares at the baby, traces the image of the boy’s face, with a finger, and finds himself thinking of his own son, and the worries he has for Robb, the babe, that is Cat’s as much as his. Then he thinks of the image of little Aegon crushed into nothingness, he looks at the babe, then at the father and he grits out. “I will not take you to King’s Landing.”

 


	2. Heart's Desire

**8 th Month of 283 A.C. **

**Princess Lyanna Targaryen**

So it had come to this, the dream her father had had had come to this. Lyanna would laugh if she did not feel like crying. Brandon was dead, her father was as good as dead, and Ned, gods Ned looked as if he had run through the seven hells and back, many times over. This decision she and Rhaegar had taken, well it was the right decision she was convinced of that, she knew she could never have been happy with Robert, but after all that had happened, she was not sure whether she would make the same choice, or do it in the same way if given another chance. Lyanna knew her father had not been overly approving of this, and well, now he was ailing and damned near dead according to Ned, and Benjen, Benjen was terrified, Ned had told her all about what had happened when he had returned north. Gods she did not know what to say to her own brother, that, that worried her. She looks at Ned now, sees him looking at her son, who Rhaegar calls Jaehaerys, and she wonders, she wonders what he sees.

“What will you do?” she asks.

Her brother looks up at her then, and says softly. “I will do as I promised Rhaegar. I will not take you to King’s Landing nor will I tell Robert what happened here. Already I have sent word that you are gone from this world. Robert will not mourn.” that last is said bitterly.

“What happened between you two Ned?” she asks softly.

Her brother looks at her his expression tight. “You. He said many things about you during the course of the war that I did not approve of. He spoke of you in a way that would have had Brandon killing him had he been alive and Lord of Winterfell. Power has corrupted Robert beyond that which I thought possible. And truth be told, I do believe that Jon Arryn has had more of a hand in that then I ever thought possible.”

“There was nothing you could do about that Ned,” Lyanna replies. “Robert has always been a man to give way to his lusts. You, yourself told me that during our discussion before Harrenhal. That he has now given way to them, well I do not mean to boast, but I did say so.”

Ned grimaces then. “I know, and that is what makes it even more painful for me. I thought this war could have been avoided had you two had been able to get along. When Benjen told me, I, well I thought that perhaps it had been a misunderstanding, now I know I was completely wrong.”

Lyanna raises a hand to her brother’s face then and says. “No Ned, you were not wrong. You merely wanted something to happen badly enough to ignore the truth. Just like me. I have what I want, but father and Brandon, I.” she breaks of then.

Her brother looks at her a moment and then whispers. “Are you happy Lyanna?”

She is startled by his question, and it takes her a moment to respond. “I…I do not know, I would like to think so. I love Rhaegar, I have to believe I do for this to have been worth it. And our son, I love Jon, more than I have ever loved anything in this world.”

Her brother smiles slightly at her then and says. “I think Rhaegar does love you as well. More so than Robert could have done. But, will you be happy. You know what will be the life for you now? The life of an exile. You can always come home.”

Lyanna grins slightly. “I do not think that is possible Ned. I cannot leave Jon behind, nor can I leave Rhaegar. Not now, we are married and that is a duty that I will perform. I would have to leave Jon behind or make you do something I do not want to make you to.”

“You are my sister Lyanna, I would do whatever you asked of me, because you are my family.” Her brother replies.

“Even if it meant lying to your wife about whose babe Jon is? I do not think so.” Lyanna responds.

“Catelyn would do her duty.” her brother replies.

Lyanna snorts. “What is it with you men and your damn devotion to duty? Do you not want to be happy with your wife? Do you not want something better than what we know some of our friends have with their wives or husbands? Come now Ned, I know you, you want happiness, do not let this sully that.”

Her brother looks at her a moment and then says simply. “I will do whatever you ask of me Lyanna.”

Lyanna sighs then. “I just want you to be safe Ned. I want you to be happy. Please don’t let this get to you.”

Ned merely smiles at her. “I won’t do not worry Lya.”

Before she can reply, the door opens and Howland enters. “The horses are ready my lord.”

Ned nods, and then turns to her and says. “I will see you soon Lya. And I promise you, I will not forget you. Do not forget me.”

Lyanna smiles, leans up and kisses her brother’s bearded cheek and whispers. “I promise I won’t. Now go and be the lord you were meant to be.” She watches as he turns and walks out of the room, and, a few moments later, picking up her son she moves outside and watches as her brother and his companions ride northward, away from the tower and back to Westeros.

She stands there for a few moments, and then she feels her husband’s arms wrap around her and feels his breath hot on her ear. “Are you okay my love?” she hears him ask.

She leans back and sighs contently. “I will be. For now, I do not know.”

Her husband nods. Soon enough, their own time for leaving comes, and Lyanna feels somewhat hesitant, she came here a little girl and now she leaves as a woman, with a child. She does not feel a woman, she still feels a child in some ways, but with her son there as a responsibility and as her source of joy and hope, she tries not feel as if she is making a mistake. There are many doubts, many, many doubts, but she puts them aside for her son and for her husband. They ride to Starfall, with the three Kingsguard and Wylla accompanying them. When they arrive at Starfall, they are greeted by the news that Robert Baratheon is to marry Cersei Lannister, and Lyanna laughs. “He truly is no different to Brandon.”

Her husband though is worried about this. “With Tywin Lannister on his side, Robert will be very hard to defeat in honest combat, in fact, it will likely not be honest combat.”

Their host Lord Dayne, remains silent at that and then says. “Tywin Lannister has made an enemy out of Dorne that is one thing that will most definitely ensure that the usurper does not gain any more advantages than he currently has. But you will find it harder to gain Dorne’s approval now that Elia is dead.”

Elia Martell, she is like a vice around their necks, tightening, she knows Rhaegar feels a huge amount of grief over her death, but the Dornish, even those such as Lord Dayne, do not seem to care. To them he abandoned her and left her to die, and Lyanna finds herself wondering why he is helping them. She says as much. “If you find myself and my husband so unappealing then why, why are you aiding us in this treason? Swear yourself to Robert and be done with it.”

Dayne looks quite offended at her words. “I would never dream of swearing an oath of fealty to that man. He who willingly allowed the deaths of an innocent woman and her son to stand. He is no man worthy of my fealty, I would rather kill myself than bend the knee to him. That Doran considers it speaks volumes of the man’s cowardice.”

“So is that why you are helping us? For mere pride’s sake? Is that all?” Lyanna asks sharply. She can feel Rhaegar’s finger’s digging into the palm of her hands but she does not care.

The Lord of Starfall looks at her with some bemusement. “No, I am helping you because I remember the oaths I swore. I remember the bonds of kinship that exist between me and Prince Rhaegar. And I remember who it was who helped my brother when he was in need.”

There is a long silence then, and then finally Rhaegar speaks. “Thank you for your kindness my lord. It will be remembered.”

“I do not care if it is remembered. Just remember to treat my brother right, and to ensure my sister is okay.” Lord Dayne replies.

With that their meeting comes to an end, and as they are walking back to their room, Rhaegar says. “You should not act so harsh towards Arel. He is merely doing what he thinks needs to be done. As we all are.”

“He was being rude to you. Bringing up Elia like that. Who does he think he is?” Lyanna fumes.

Her husband does not reply, and indeed he does not speak to her after that, they eat their evening meal in silence, they sleep in silence and in the morning they dress and prepare to leave Starfall in silence. It is only after he has said goodbye to Lord Arel and his wife Shaena that he speaks to her and then his voice is soft and filled with sadness. “He has every right to speak to me like that, I failed Elia, and she is dead. I failed Aegon and he is dead. I will not fail you or Jon.”

Lyanna places her hand on his cheek and she replies. “You won’t my love. I know you won’t. And I am sorry too, I…I cannot help but get defensive over you. You are my husband.”

Rhaegar smiles slightly then. “I know, you are a she wolf, but now we must be careful. We have our son to protect.” At that they both look toward Jon who sleeps soundly in his crib. Rhaegar bends down to pick him up, and Jon does not wake, he remains sleeping soundly. “Shall we?” Rhaegar asks. Lyanna nods and she opens the door and with Rhaegar at her side Jon in his arms they walk out of their room accompanied by the three Kingsguard.

They are greeted at the docks by Ashara and Lord Arel. “Safe travels. Yothar knows to leave you at Lys where, Maegor shall take you on to your final destination.”

“Thank you Arel.” Rhaegar says, the two men shake hands and then Rhaegar boards the ship.

Lyanna hesitates a moment and then she too boards the boat, she sees Rhaegar giving Jon to Wylla, and when Ashara joins her a moment later, she looks at the woman who was her brother’s lover and asks. “So my lady Ashara, which compartment would you like?”

The lady looks somewhat taken aback. “I…I do not know. I thought there were only a few compartments available.”

“Well surely you would like your own, after all there are some fine looking men onboard this ship.” Lyanna japes. She regrets the jape when she sees the crestfallen look on the lady’s face. “Forgive me my lady. I do not know what came over me.”

Ashara shakes her off though. “It is alright Princess, it was of my own doing. After all how could you not speak of me like that, when I spoke much worse of you in that tower.” with that the woman turns and walks off somewhere else.

Lyanna is left standing on the ship feeling somewhat clueless and confused. A deep aching for home fills her. Yet she knows that they cannot go back, not now, now they must move forward, not backwards.

* * *

 

**Riverrun**

**Lord Hoster Tully**

Hoster felt tired, truly tired, for the first time in his memory, he wanted nothing more than a good night’s rest. He ached for his wife, but Minisa was long dead. There was no point in longing for the dead, he had long ago come to peace with that, and yet this war had added new nightmares to the ones other wars had brought. They had won and yet Hoster knew they would be cheated out of their rightful spoils. With Tywin Lannister as father in law to the king, there was no two ways about it. Looking at his own goodson now, Hoster wonders if the lad has finally come to realise that. Eddard Stark, the second son of one of the most powerful men in the realm, thrust into responsibility because of the deaths of his father and brother, Hoster feels sorry for him, but judging by the way the man looks, he does not anyone’s pity. No the look on his face seems to be one of wanting blood.

“My condolences for the loss of your sister my lord. I know it must be hard to hear, what with the war having been fought saving her in mind.” Hoster offers the young man.

His goodson merely looks at him a long moment and then says. “I do not need your pity Lord Hoster. You know as well as I do that this war was not fought to save her. It was fought so that Jon Arryn could seat Robert on the throne.”

Hoster looks at his goodson, surprised at the ferociousness of the man’s tone. Looking at him a moment he admits. “Yes, I do know that the war did become about fighting to put Lord Robert on the throne. That aim has been achieved now. I also know that Lord Robert became less and less agreeable to you as time went on.”

Stark snorts. “Agreeable. Robert damned near made me kill him when I was in King’s Landing last. He is not the man I thought him to be.”

Hoster considers this a moment. “And what was that Lord Eddard?”

“He was the man who was supposed to right the wrongs that had been done to the kingdom. Instead he allowed the princess and her son to be butchered, he rewarded those who should have been killed, and now, now he is marrying the daughter of the man who ordered it all. He rejected my sister.” the man replies. The man is silent a moment and then he goes on. “Furthermore, I find it interesting that you call Robert, Lord Robert, and not king Robert. Is he not your king then? Despite having fought for him and bled for him?”

Hoster looks at the man and says. “I did what was necessary to ensure that my family survived.”

The man looks at him with such intensity, Hoster suddenly wonders if the man is more wolf than man. His voice is more growl than sound. “Answer me clearly Lord Hoster, no riddles. Did you know about what my father had planned with Rhaegar Targaryen?”

Hoster considers his answer for a moment and then replies. “Yes.”

Stark visibly deflates before him, and then asks softly. “Why did you not say anything?”

“Because the tide was turning against Rhaegar Targaryen, and your father was presumed dead. I did not wish to jeopardise my girls or my son for something that might not happen.” Hoster replies.

His goodson looks at him a long moment. “Then you will be disappointed my lord, for Prince Rhaegar and my sister are not dead.”

“What?” Hoster asks. “Rhaegar died on the Trident, nearly everyone saw that. And, you, yourself confirmed your sister as being dead.”

His goodson looks him in the eyes then a wry smile playing on his face. “I lied.”

“And what of Rhaegar, who then was it that took his place if it were not him? Ser Arthur?” Hoster asks.

“No.” Lord Stark says shaking his head. “His bastard brother Aurane.”

That hits Hoster like a shock wave, the bastard, of course. “Ah.” is all he can manage, and then he asks. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, I need to speak to someone about this. You were in with my father, you knew about his plans for Rhaegar and Lyanna. I intend to see them come to fruition. Elia and Aegon are dead, but my sister and her husband and their son remain alive. I mean to see them on the throne.” his goodson says candidly.

Hoster looks at the man, looking to see if he is playing him false, when he can detect no word of a lie he asks. “And how might I be of assistance?”

“Your lords are some of the most loyal to the dragons in the realm. The rebellion was a sure sign of that. You would be able to get them to rally to the banner would you not?” Lord Stark asks.

“Not straight away I would not. I would need to repair relations with them first and foremost. I would need to soothe over the damage I did during the war. But yes, eventually I would be able to get them to fight for us once more.” Hoster replies.

“How long would that take?” Lord Stark asks.

“A few years. The land needs to heal first Lord Stark. I am not so foolish as to ask my men into battle so soon after they have just come home, returned to their wives and children. They will need to remember why they fight, and now is the time to give them that.” Hoster responds.

“Of course, I am not expecting them to be ready to fight now itself. I have sent my own men home as well. I will not ask them to continue fighting through the winter. But I must be sure, you will remain true and keep the faith?” Lord Eddard asks.

Hoster looks at the man before him, and sees echoes of his friend Rickard in the face, echoes he never saw in Brandon Stark, and he nods. “Of course. I will not endanger my family.” There is a moment’s silence and then Hoster asks. “What will you tell Cat?”

His goodson is silent a moment and then says. “The truth. I will not lie to my wife.”

“Good,” Hoster says sagely. “No good relationship can be formed on the basis of a lie.” there is a moment’s silence and then they both stand. “Rest easy, it is a long day ahead of you.”

“Yes, of course, thank you my lord.” his goodson says.

“Not at all, you are family now my lord. It is only fair.” Hoster responds. He sees his goodson out of the solar and then waits a moment before opening another door, his brother enters and sits down. Hoster looks at him a moment and then asks. “Well? What do you make of that?”

His brother is silent, then finally says. “I believe he is speaking truly brother. There was no hint of a lie in that man’s tone, and we both know what his brother was like. If there was a lie there, we both would have known it.”

Hoster nods and then asks. “What do you think made him turn on Lord Robert in such a fashion? During the rebellion they were close, as close as brothers it seems. Something must have been said or done that made them turn on one another.”

“I believe it is more the case that Baratheon said something and Stark turned on him. From what I have heard, they argued over the slaughter of the princess and her son, as well as over Lady Lyanna. Now Princess Lyanna I presume. It seems their bond could not survive such a strain.” Brynden replies.

Hoster muses over this and then says. “A shame that, for it could have brought great benefits for us. But nonetheless now that the Lannisters are involved, I do believe it is safe to say whatever we might have gotten will be shoved to the side. Lysa was never one to think of anything more than her own wants. That business with the Baelish boy, I thought she had more sense than that. And Arryn, that man is more of a viper than even the Dornish prince in the south.”

“She was merely seeking comfort from someone she thought might give it to her brother. You always did prefer Cat.” Brynden says reproachfully.

“Do not give me that line brother. For we both know you did as well. Lysa was what she was because of her own choices, nothing to do with us. I tried to help her, she rejected my advice at every turn and that Baelish boy did not help.” Hoster fumes. “Where is he now anyway?”

“I believe he is back at the Fingers, his father died during the war and he is now getting used to being a minor lord. That should in itself keep him away from court for a fair few years.” Brynden replies.

Hoster nods. “Good. Should the boy show signs of trying to come into contact with Lysa, I want him killed. I will not have him playing the field with her again. That boy is nothing but trouble.”

His brother nods and then asks. “Will you be attending the royal wedding? It is to happen soon enough I believe.”

Hoster mulls this over and then responds. “I will go. To not go would look amiss. Stark will be excused for not going due to needing to hold the last rites for his sister. I do not think the king will miss him, not with Arryn whispering in his ear, as well as Lannister. Court will become a very dangerous place in the next few years.”

“Indeed. Though Stark is right you know brother. The lords who fought for the dragons during the rebellion will need a lot to convince them you mean well once more. Darry should not be hard, his brothers were good friends of mine and I know him well enough. Goodbrook, well the boy is being brought here as per your orders. As for the others, Bracken in particular that could raise some issues could it not?” his brother asks.

Hoster takes a sip of wine. “It will take some time to bring them all into line. Darry as you say shall not be a problem, Goodbrook is taken care of. Frey, Frey will be dealt with in good time. As for Bracken, well Jonos wishes for something or the other as always, but I do mean to see his nephew squire alongside Edmure, and might well consider a talk of marriage. He will tread the line for now, and that is how it should be. Mooton, well Mooton has not the stones to continue resistance, his brother is gone, dead. He will bend or be destroyed.”

His brother nods and then asks. “What of the western lands? The west will only grow stronger under Baratheon with this marriage. They will begin encroaching on our lands, how do you plan on stopping that from happening?”

Hoster takes a sip of water, grimaces slightly and then says. “We shall build more border castles to ensure that such things do not happen. Baratheon, I do not think will look to oppose Lannister in this, but we shall not make it easy for them. Along the Tumblestone and the borders we shall have castles and forts built to keep these fools from moving. Tywin Lannister is cautious, he will move slowly, and if he is shown that he will gain nothing, he will stop.”

“The man tried for nearly twenty years to have his daughter as queen, what makes you think he will stop at something as this?” his brother asks sceptically.

“The fact that he will not dare do this in the open. Even if his daughter is wed to the king, he is not in good completely with the new regime. He must needs tread lightly, time will not be on his side in this. I will not allow it.” Hoster responds.


	3. Weddings And Denials

**10 th Month of 283 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Ser Jaime Lannister**

The night his father came to King’s Landing at the end of the rebellion still haunts his dreams. Never before had he seen so much carnage, so much destruction, all in the name of one man. His father had been late to Lord Robert’s party, and the actions of the sack showed that he had abandoned the Targaryens once and for all. All the while this had been going on Jaime had been stuck in the throne room worrying about Princess Elia and Prince Aegon, he remembered very well the oath he had sworn to Prince Rhaegar and he was desperate to ensure he maintained it. Yet, King Aerys continued to stop him from fulfilling his duty, King Aerys kept him in the throne room, the only Kingsguard of seven left within the capital, the Bold was injured, Hightower, Dayne and Whent were with their prince, Martell and Darry had died at the Trident. Aerys had taunted him, taunted him with things best left unsaid, spoken of his mother, the Lady Joanna, and Jaime’s anger had gotten the better of him, he had slain the King and then gone, gone to try and save the Princess and her son, he arrived too late. They were dead by the time he got there, Aerys last plan had worked.

And now, now he was expected to help his father and their family secure their hold on the throne. The marriage, the marriage between his sister and Lord Robert was to take place today in the Great Sept of Baelor, and well Jaime could not see what was so great about it. He looked at his sister, and found he was aching for her, but at the same time he felt only revulsion. “Is this truly what you want Cersei?” he asks her.

His sister looks beautiful, she truly does. “Yes, of course. How could you ask me such a thing?” she replies.

“How can you want to marry him, and still claim to love me?” Jaime asks.

“Because you are my twin Jaime, we have always been together. But Robert, Robert is the King, and he will make me Queen. And then we can ensure that we are never separated.” Cersei responds.

Jaime feels something tighten in his gut then. “And you only want to marry him for that right Cersei? For no other reason?”

His sister looks at him with something bordering on contempt. “I want to be Queen Jaime, you have always known that. Father always told me how I would be queen, and now, now I finally have that chance to be Queen, why should I not take it?”

Jaime can feel his anger begin to grow now. “Because you are marrying a man who condoned the killing of children. You are marrying a man who claimed to be fighting the war for one woman, and then discarded her the moment you were presented to him. Robert will not love you Cersei.”

“Oh do not be so naïve Jaime. We are not children now, to consider such things as love important. But Robert, how could he deny me, when father won him his throne, had cleared a path towards it by removing that boy? Yes it was terribly done, but it needed to be done. Surely you can see that? After all you did kill Aerys for the family did you not?” Cersei responds.

Jaime feels something within him tighten at that. “I killed Aerys because it was the right thing to do. The man was mad, and would have destroyed us all had he been allowed to live.”

“So you did do it for the family. Come now Jaime, do not look so hurt. We are not children anymore to live by childish fantasies, surely you can see how my marriage to Robert benefits not only the family but us as well. We can remain together now.” Cersei says.

“He is a damned child killer Cersei!” Jaime growls. “He is not worthy of you, he will use you then forget you before the day is out. How can you not see that? He fought a god’s damned war for Lyanna Stark and then cast her aside the moment father took King’s Landing for him and Stark disappeared. How can you be certain he will not do the same to you?”

“Because I am not Lyanna Stark, and I know how to fight for what is mine.” His sister replies coldly.

“And what is that?” Jaime asks. “A crown? A thing built on the bodies of dead children? Is that what this is? You would be a Queen over ashes?”

“No, I would be Queen over a kingdom that has seen the stain of the Targaryens removed. A kingdom that is beginning to heal from the wounds inflicted by the man you swore to defend and killed. Robert will be a far better king than Rhaegar ever could be.” Cersei replies bitingly.

“You do not know that.” Jaime says. “You do not know that. Baratheon never spent any time in the Stormlands after becoming its lord apart from when it came time to fight the war. Does he even know a thing about ruling?”

“It does not matter if he does not know. I will help him rule the kingdoms, and we shall ensure that they see a golden age.” Cersei states.

Jaime snorts. “Come now sister, we both know that such a thing is not possible. Father never taught you how to rule, and I doubt Jon Arryn would even consider allowing you, a woman, a Lannister woman at that, even an inch of power.”

His sister slaps him then, the sound ringing in his ears. “Get out. Get out and leave my sight.”

Jaime moves back, holding a hand to his cheek. “Of course…Your Grace.” With that he turns and walks out of her room, he merely nods at the red cloaks stationed outside and begins the long walk back to White Sword Tower. As he walks toward the tower, Jaime finds himself wondering about a myriad of things, he has never truly understood why Prince Rhaegar did not go to the Trident himself, such a thing never seemed right, and the fact that the other Kingsguard were so willing to help him, that does not sit well with Jaime. He does not know what to make of it all, but as he walks up the stairs to White Sword Tower and sees his sworn brother and the new Lord Commander sitting there he feels something akin to anger boiling inside of him. “Lord Commander.” he greets the man curtly.

“Ser Jaime.” The man replies coldly.

“I would have thought to have seen you with the king?” Jaime responds.

“The king dismissed me for today, it seems he is more than happy with the guards he has from Storm’s End. He will summon me when needed.” Ser Barristan replies.

“And you think that wise?” Jaime asks incredulously. “The king is without a Kingsguard on the day of his wedding? Is that truly wise?”

The Lord Commander looks at him with contempt. “The king has decreed it, and so it shall be. We are not ones to argue with the king. It is not our place.”

“Even if the king’s wishes are a risk to his safety? I thought our primary duty was to protect the king?” Jaime asks.

“And yet you failed to do such a thing when it came to King Aerys, Ser Jaime. I do not believe it is mentioned within the vows that killing the king is an option.” Ser Barristan replies coldly.

“He was a threat to the city and to the people within it. He was mad, he broke every single code of conduct, and you know it.” Jaime snaps, wondering where this sudden heat is coming from. “I did what I had to do.”

“Did you now? Or did you merely act because you knew it would gain you the favour of the new king?” Ser Barristan asks.

Jaime grits his teeth then, his anger beginning to grow. “I did no such thing. Aerys was going to do something terrible to the city and I tried to stop it.”

“And what was this thing that required you to kill the king you had sworn to protect? Was it not merely just opportunism, as your whole family seems willing to seize on that allowed you to slay a defenceless man?” Ser Barristan replies.

Jaime is stunned by the accusation, he looks at the man and asks. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

“I think you are Tywin Lannister’s son and all know his reputation.” Ser Barristan replies coldly.

Jaime feels something inside him break away then, arguing with Cersei and now with Ser Barristan, something inside him snaps. “And what of you then Lord Commander. Since we are speaking of sins, what of your own? What of allowing the king to rape his wife, an innocent woman whilst you stood there silently? Are we not sworn to defend the innocent? What of when he burned Rickard Stark alive, for a crime none could comprehend, are we not supposed to provide counsel to the king? What of when he hit Princess Elia despite her doing nothing? You did nothing then, and you stopped me from doing something. What of those?”

The knight looks distinctly uncomfortable then, but his voice is calm when he replies. “I obeyed my king and did as he asked. It was not my place, nor was it yours to interfere in such a thing.”

Jaime laughs then. “Not our duty to interfere? We are knights, it is our duty to interfere if an innocent person is getting hurt. Is that not what we are taught when we are mere squires? That a duty of a knight is to help defend the innocent? Or does that suddenly stop meaning anything when it comes to the Kingsguard? Are we not still knights?”

“We serve the King and the royal family. We are to remain silent until they ask us for help. In none of the circumstances you mentioned did they ask for our help or guidance. They did as was right, it was not our place to question them.” the old man replies.

Jaime looks at the man long and hard then. “How? How could it not have been? Surely if they are doing something that harms themselves, we have a duty to intervene? We did nothing and the kingdoms burned and now the wrong man sits the throne.”

“We are knights of the Kingsguard, not politicians, we do not intervene in things that do not concern us. Our duty was to the king and to the family, nothing more, and nothing less.” Ser Barristan replies.

Jaime laughs even more at that. “Truly Ser Barristan, are you sure you were not a jester in a past life, for that must have been one of the funniest things I have ever heard. If our duty was to the king and his family, pray tell me why you bent the knee to the Usurper?” the man stares at him unseeingly and Jaime goes on probing. “When you bent the knee, Aerys was still alive, as were Princess Elia and Prince Aegon. Yet you bent the knee and recognised Robert as your king. You broke your vows, you committed treason, far more than I did. I kept to my vows, you, you broke them.”

The Lord Commander is silent for a long time, and Jaime begins to wonder if the man will ever speak. Eventually he does, and his voice is strained. “Do not dare question me Ser Jaime. I did not kill my king, nor did I profane my blood with those of men within the Red Keep. You did, and now, now you would dare raise question when your sister marries the King? The king who you too have sworn an oath to? I do not know about you, but the age of the dragon is done, for now.”

Jaime snorts. “It is not, nor shall it be. I am done with this Ser Barristan. I am done with you and your hypocrisy. And I am done with this city.” With that Jaime walks out of the room and down the stairs, to where he knows not, all he knows is that he is done, done with this place and his sister and father. He spares a thought for Tyrion briefly, but then he is removing his white cloak and is walking further down the steps and out of the tower. He will leave here if he can, and be done with it all.

* * *

 

**12 th Month of 283 A.C. Lys**

**Prince Rhaegar Targaryen**

Lys was a bustling city, filled with activity almost constantly, it was somewhat soothing for him, to know that they could get lost within the confines of the city, and there was a sense of ease for him, having grown up in King’s Landing, seeing such activity once more. Being aboard the ship from Starfall had nearly driven him mad, he had not liked the dull days and the mere sense of keeping his head above water had been like to make him moody. Lyanna had not fared any better, she was constantly sick and as such they could not sleep together as often as he would like, Jon was growing and that was good, but often the prophecy came to plague him. Aegon was dead, his prince was gone, but Rhaenys was still alive, on Dragonstone, hopefully mother would know to send her and the others onward, he needed another child now. The prophecy needed to be fulfilled, it had to be, though Rhaegar did not know how certain he was now. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Are you well my love?” he hears his wife ask. His wife, gods but that is a strange title, for so long Elia was his wife, and now because of his foolishness she is gone, dead. “My love?”

Rhaegar looks at Lyanna and sighs. “I am well Lyanna, thank you. I was merely thinking, that is all.”

“About what my love?” his wife asks him. “You weren’t worrying about that damnable prophecy again were you?”

Rhaegar is silent a moment and then asks. “Does it show up that easily on my face then?”

His wife looks at him incredulously. “Rhaegar, for the love of the gods, we have just reached Lys, we managed to get away from Dorne thanks to the Daynes and to Ned, and you are already thinking about the thing that brought the kingdom to its knees? Why?”

“Because it cannot be stopped, Lyanna. I have spent most of my life considering it, and now I am wondering whether I was right to.” Rhaegar responds. “If I was wrong, then everything I have based my life around was a lie. And Elia and Aegon died for nothing.”

There is a long moment’s silence, and Rhaegar notes that Lyanna’s shoulders have stiffened, and he realises just what his words might mean to her. Before he can speak though, she asks. “Is that what this is to you then? Was this just a way of placating my father or soothing your longings for a prophecy? Is that what Jon and I are to you?”

“No of course not. You are my wife, and Jaehaerys is my son, there is nothing that would change my mind on that. I love you both, truly I do. It is just that, I regret what happened to Elia and Aegon.” Rhaegar replies quickly.

His wife does not seem appeased though. “As do I, and yet it has happened. We cannot continue mourning the dead Rhaegar. It is not good for any of us, including Jon. We must ensure that we give him something necessary. I will not have our son turn out like your father.”

Rhaegar feels something akin to anger prickle within him then. “What do you mean by that Lyanna?”

His wife does not seem to catch the hint in his tone, something Elia would have done. “What I mean is that your father was mad, and I do not want our son to become mad. Focussing on the past would only make him so, comparing him to some god damned prophecy that brought nothing but pain would do the same as well. Surely you can see that?”

His anger begins to grow now. “My father was not always mad Lyanna. It was the scheming of lords and the events of Duskendale that made him so.”

“And you were there scheming as well. I know about the pact you and my father made Rhaegar. Do not treat me as a child, not now. Not after all of this has happened.” His wife replies.

“No one is treating you like a child Lyanna, I do not know why you continue to think that.” Rhaegar says exasperatedly.

“Then why do you not speak to me of Rhaenys? I know she is on Dragonstone, and that she has been for some time. Why are you not making any effort to get her to come to us here? What about your mother and brother? Why are you not bringing them here?” Lyanna asks.

“How do you know that I have not made plans for them?” Rhaegar asks cautiously.

“Because you do not speak of them with me.” his wife replies. “Before we used to speak about almost everything, and yet since coming to Lys, we have spoken rarely. You spend most of the time in meetings with the magisters and with Ser Gerold and Arthur, why are you leaving me out of this?”

Rhaegar looks at his wife and replies. “I am trying to protect you. Lyanna, you are my wife, but you are also Jaehaerys’ mother, he must be protected, and you are the best protection he can have. Being raised by a mother who loves and cares for him…” he tails off then thinking of his own mother.

Lyanna looks at him then, and Rhaegar can see the hurt etched on her face, and even though it pains him, he knows it is for the best, she can never know the true extent of the plans he had made. “How are you protecting me by keeping me in the dark Rhaegar? I can only help you, if I know what to do.”

“You are my wife, and the mother of my son, that is all you need remember. Support me that is all I ask.” Rhaegar says, closing himself off, knowing he has to do this, to ensure that they are safe.

“And here I thought you would be different to Robert. It seems you are all the same.” his wife replies coldly, standing up then and walking to the door, she turns round once, and when he merely looks at her blankly, she huffs and then walks out of the room, the door slamming behind her.

Rhaegar slumps down then, his head resting on his hands, he sighs. Nothing he seems to do now is going right, the magisters are giving him a hard time, well those who can be bought off are, and now Lyanna is going to be sulking for the rest of the day. Gods’ almighty. He raises his head then and looks at Arthur standing silent as a shadow in the corner. “Well, say what you have to say Arthur and be done with it.”

His friend, looks as tired as Rhaegar feels, but his voice is still composed when he replies. “Why do you not tell her everything Rhaegar? She is your wife, she is your queen, and it does no good to keep secrets from her.”

Rhaegar looks at his friend and sighs. “Because she is too young to bear these burdens Arthur. I need only look at her to remember she is a young woman, just turned six and ten. That is not the sort of burden a new mother needs to have, knowing how to regain the throne. She needs to raise our son and raise him right.”

“You were six and ten when you took on a burden similar to the one you know hold. What is stopping you now? And do not tell me that it is because she is a woman, I know you thought highly of Elia, despite how you treated her.” Arthur responds.

Rhaegar grits his teeth then, even from Arthur he does not hear the end of the wrongness of his treatment of Elia. “She does not truly understand everything happening. I fear this would drive her away if she knew all that must needs be done to regain the throne. We know the Usurper married Cersei Lannister, and that Jaime has gone missing, there is much and more that must needs be worked on. I do not want to burden her.”

“And if she wants to be burdened with it? What then Rhaegar?” Arthur asks.

Rhaegar looks at his friend and sighs. “Then I fear I am at a loss as to what to do. Elia would not have thought to question me, but Lyanna will, and I know she will remain quiet until I give her what she wants.”

Arthur nods. “Of course, she is a she wolf, but there is something else you are holding back from is there not? Rhaenys?”

Rhaegar looks at his friend then and laughs. “You know me too well. Yes Rhaenys is a concern, I do not know how Lyanna will act around her. She claims she will love her as if Rhaenys is her own flesh and blood, but it is one thing to say that and another to do it.”

“And what has caused this concern to suddenly come up my prince? You were so sure she would treat Rhaenys and Aegon fairly when you were in the tower. Why have you suddenly started having doubts?” Ser Arthur asks.

Rhaegar runs a hand through his hair. “I do not know. I think I was just living in a dream in the tower, believing everything would be okay. I do not know what to think anymore, truth be told I am considering whether the prophecy was wrong all along and there is something more to it.”

His friend looks at him cautiously. “Might I speak freely Your Grace?”

“Of course, I would not expect otherwise.” Rhaegar replies.

“Is it wise to continue pursuing the prophecy? It brought the war about the moment your grandsire decided to wed your father and mother together. Surely it has caused you nothing but pain and grief? Why continue pursuing it?” Arthur asks.

Rhaegar looks at his friend, and replies. “Because I need to know whether I was right or not. Whether the prophecy is true or not, I need to know.”

“Why?” his friend asks.

“Because then I can decide whether to continue with my path or change my decision. I will not make the same mistakes I made the first time round.” Rhaegar responds firmly.

“And how will you do that my prince? You are supposed to be dead, you cannot go gallivanting around Essos now. There will be eyes looking for your siblings as well. How do you propose on finding out the right course?” Arthur asks.

“Ah but it is precisely because I am believed to be dead that I can do these things. After all no one will believe their eyes, not when the man is dead. Robert will spin whatever lie he wants and people will believe it for a time, so long as it keeps the king’s eyes away from them. I will find out what I need to and I will find it before it is too late.” Rhaegar responds firmly.

“Where will you go? How will you find what you are looking for? Would you leave your child and wife here? What of Rhaenys and your mother and brother?” Arthur asks.

“Of course not. Seven Hells Arthur, I am trying to find out what to do, what to do to make our lives easier. I cannot do that if you constantly keep questioning me!” Rhaegar fumes.

“Then talk to Lyanna! She is your wife, it is time you started treating her as such. She is not just some girl. You want to make amends, start with your wife and son, and when Rhaenys comes make amends with her. For the love of the Seven, Rhaegar, you have something most people kill for. Do not ruin it because of some damned prophecy.” Arthur growls.

Rhaegar looks at Arthur in shocked silence and then when there is a knock on the door he calls for whoever it is to enter. And there he finds himself looking at Ser Oswell and a man he has not seen in a long time. “Richard? What are you doing here?” he finds himself asking.

“I have come to serve the rightful king Sire.” Richard Lonmouth replies breathlessly.


	4. Crushed

**12 th Month of 283 A.C. Lys**

**Prince Rhaegar Targaryen**

Richard Lonmouth, Gods, it has been so long since Rhaegar has seen his former squire, not since Harrenhal has he seen him. They had an argument about something, Lyanna he thinks, and before he knew it Richard was back in the Stormlands, and there was no sight of him after that until now. Rhaegar has always liked Richard, they have gotten drunk together more times than Rhaegar can actually remember, but the sight of him here, now, it is startling and worrying. How could the man know where to find him? How could he know that this was where he would go? There are so many questions that he has, he does not know how to begin asking them. Instead he merely says. “Sit down Richard, I expect you are tired.” At the look of apprehension that crosses his friend’s face, Rhaegar curses silently, he should not speak so to his friends, Lyanna and Arthur are right. Once his friend has sat down, Rhaegar offers him a cup of wine and then asks. “How are you Richard? It has been too long since we last met.”

At this his friend looks deeply guilt stricken. “I feat that was my fault my prince. I said many things during our last encounter that were not warranted. And I apologise for that. But can you see why I had such concerns? Seeing as what has happened since Harrenhal, can you truly blame me for being worried?”

There was a time when Rhaegar would have barked at the man for daring to question him, now all he does is sigh and say. “Yes I can understand, I understand all too well why you might have had those concerns. For they are concerns that I now share.” he pauses a moment debating whether he should ask this question or not, and then deciding it does not hurt to know he asks. “What have you been doing since we last met Richard?

Here his friend becomes solemn. “I spent a lot of time drinking. Truth be told Your Grace there is a lot I do not remember about the past two years. I drank a lot, I slept around, and I did a lot of other things I do not remember nor do I care to. I know I lost family during the war, and I know I fought during the war, but other than that, I could not tell you.”

The admission surprises Rhaegar, he had always known Richard liked his drink, but he was not sure that the man liked it that much. “What caused you to sink into such a pit?” Rhaegar asks curious.

Most people would be too embarrassed to speak of such a thing in front of their prince, not Richard though, he merely says. “I was not happy with where I thought I was going. I wanted to escape from the wrongs I had done, the crimes I had committed. Drink seemed like the perfect way to escape from that. From the thoughts that would not let me sleep at night.”

“What allowed you to get out of such a thing?” Rhaegar asks, feeling a twinge of guilt, he knows exactly what things Richard is referring to, and the sense of overwhelming despair threatens to overwhelm him once more.

His friend looks at him a long moment, a truly long moment and then he responds. “I was there when Robert Baratheon married Cersei Lannister, I was there when I saw the hunger within Tywin Lannister’s eyes. Baratheon will not last long within King’s Landing, I did not want to become like him. I wanted to have something to live for, so I left King’s Landing.”

“And how did you come to be in Lys Richard? How did you know how to find us?” Rhaegar asks.

“I remembered something you had said once when we were young, about wanting to visit Lys just once to see the place where Larra Rogare had come from. I took a chance. It helped that there was someone at court willing to aid me in my quest.” Richard responds.

“But what made you think I was not dead?” Rhaegar asks, fear beginning to creep into his tone now. “The whole realm believes I died at the Trident, apart from one person, and I am not sure that he would tell you, for he does not know you.”

At this Richard merely grins and says. “You forget my prince, I know how to make someone speak. Stark might not have been at Baratheon’s wedding, but he did send someone from the north to be there, and it just so happens Mark Ryswell is someone who speaks when he is drunk. Luckily, we were alone when this happened, but you know I thought a man is more likely to speaking the truth when he is drunk.”

“So you fucked the information out of Mark Ryswell did you Richard?” Arthur quips, speaking for the first time.

“I guess you could say that aye. I thought I might as well put one of my talents to use. And so I did, and I boarded a ship bound for Lys, and wandered around until I found something that led me here.” Richard replies.

“What was that?” Rhaegar asks sharply.

“One of the men who I passed on the road was speaking of a large order of cakes that had been placed to somewhere on this road, and I knew such a thing was something either Arthur or Ashara would have asked for, and so I followed the direction the man was giving. Of course, I did not know whether or not to believe him, but now I know I was right to.” Richard replies grinning. Something must show on his face, for Richard quickly speaks. “Oh do not worry, unless someone knew our little gathering well enough, they would not be able to find you as well as I did. It would certainly make it much harder for them. And of course your brother and daughter are more focal points for the usurper now.”

Rhaegar feels something inside him tighten at mention of his daughter and so asks. “You spent time at the court of the usurper?” When his friend nod he asks. “What is that court like?”

Richard grins then. “It is a court filled with all kinds of pleasures you could imagine, the food is delicious, and there are girls there who would do anything you asked of them, who walk around in nary a slip of clothing. Over all it is the most fun. Baratheon himself has attended perhaps one meeting of the council during the time I was there, most of the time he is either drinking, training, or fucking his queen.”

“And what of the Queen, has she brought her family with her to court? I heard that Ser Jaime disappeared, is that true?” Rhaegar asks.

At this Richard’s grin only widens. “Oh most definitely, there are many blond haired shits wandering around the court of King’s Landing now, and more are to come from what I could gather. The Lannisters are trying to do what they could not do under your father’s reign, they are trying to fill the court with their own men. Something that is going to be difficult with the amount of men Jon Arryn, the hand of the king is bringing. His wife giving birth to a son seems to have made him determined to have more say over the running of the realm. As for Ser Jaime, aye it is true, he disappeared during the wedding, and he had an argument with Ser Barristan beforehand though the old knight does not know where the boy could have gone. Parties were sent out to look for the boy, but none could find him, and as such they have given up hope for the time being. Though Tywin is determined to find him.”

Rhaegar laughs slightly then. “Of course, I had forgotten that Tywin Lannister prefers this son over the dwarf. A shame then that that son might well be his heir.”

There is some laughter at that, but then Richard speaks. “I would not be so sure of that. From what I could gather, Tywin Lannister has already sought permission from the king to begin looking for a new bride. It seems he is determined to not allow the imp to rule Casterly Rock. And for whatever reason Robert Baratheon has allowed him to do so. Whoever Lannister marries, that will carry some weight and add more power to the Lannister name within the kingdoms.”

Rhaegar runs a hand through his hair and sighs then. “Indeed it will, the question is where Lannister will look to. The north has none, the riverlands are accounted for, and the Vale is a possibility as is the Reach. By the gods, if he marries into the Reach, our struggle will become all the more telling.”

His friend merely says. “It will take some time for Lannister to think of a bride, especially with Oberyn Martell baying for blood. He wants the realms to go to war once more, this time to put Rhaenys on the throne alongside her uncle.”

Rhaegar feels something in his gut tighten then. “And of course because he is using Rhaenys as the rallying point, Dorne is actually considering this are they not?”

Richard nods. “Aye, it seems Prince Doran has been mute on the subject, far longer than Robert is comfortable with. He has ordered his brother Stannis to quickly complete his building of a new royal navy and for the Redwynes to ready their fleet. He means to take Dragonstone and to kill them off quickly.”

Rhaegar closes his eyes then, despair flooding through him. “Have the Velaryons or any of the other houses of the narrow sea done anything about this?”

“Lord Monford is currently being held prisoner in King’s Landing, and his wife is struggling to prevent the people of the Driftmark from bending as well as the people of Dragonstone. They are struggling Rhaegar, truly they are struggling.” Richard responds.

Rhaegar takes a deep breath, his nerves are on edge now, and there is a real chance that his daughter and brother and mother might all die before he can do something to save them. The thought makes him ill, truly deeply ill, and he is not sure whether he can stomach the thought. Once more his naivety hits him like a thunder clap, and he feels sick with himself. His own stupidity is the cause of this. If he had only tried to approach it through legal means, perhaps none of this would have happened. The prophecy, gods it haunts him now, it is taunting him, he is sure of it. He takes another breath and then turning to Arthur says. “Tell Gerold to go to Saan, tell him I will agree to his terms, if he does this for me.”

Arthur looks at him a moment and then asks. “Are you certain my prince?”

Rhaegar nods. “More certain than I have been of anything else in my entire life. Send Gerold, and tell him to tell that damned pirate that I will agree to his terms, I will make the payment. So long as he does this for me. I will not allow them to fall under the Baratheons. I would rather give myself up than allow that to happen.”

Arthur merely nods, and walks past Rhaegar and out of the room. As he walks out, Richard asks. “Saan? Who are you speaking of my prince?”

Rhaegar looks at his friend and responds. “Salladhor Saan, the son of a pirate king. And commander of one of the toughest pirate fleets within the known world. I shall use his services for this, and I will ensure my daughter, brother and mother are safe. I will not fail them again.”

Lonmouth nods and asks. “What can I do to help?”

Rhaegar considers this a moment and then says. “You can tell me more of Baratheon’s court.”

* * *

 

**7th Month of 284 A.C., King’s Landing**

**King Robert I Baratheon**

Anger that was the emotion he was feeling now, it was the emotion he felt most often nowadays. Ever since Ned had bloody gone south and then gone north, the fool had never bothered to come to King’s Landing. Lyanna was gone, she was dead, his love was dead, and her brother had not had the decency to tell him in person. Had not brought that damned body back for him to mourn. How could he mourn something he had not seen? It angered him that Ned would think him a fool, no he did not like Tywin Lannister nor what the man had done during the sack, but it had been necessary. Robert could not understand why Ned could not see it that way. Then again Ned always had been a naïve little fool, perhaps he was only beginning to show himself. Then there was his wife, yes Cersei was good looking enough to want to fuck, but she was not Lyanna, and she was not the girl who was Mya’s mother, but he had fucked her and hard many times. And she was with child thank gods, she was swelling heavy with child.

Now there’s this, his brother, his fool of a brother, Stannis, always the odd one out, even when they were children, given one task and he could not even do that right. “Say it again, say it again Stannis.” Robert growls, fighting hard to keep his temper in check.

“The fleet set sail Your Grace, and managed to get to Dragonstone through the storms and the battering waves, most of the Targaryen fleet was destroyed, but there was one ship left, and well as we were storming the castle, the Targaryen children must have boarded the ship for they could not be found anywhere else.” Stannis replies.

“So they escaped? What of the woman?” Robert bites out.

“She died giving birth.” Stannis replies.

“Died? She gave birth to one more dragonspawn?” Robert growls. “And they escaped?”

“Yes Your Grace.” his brother replies.

“You understand what this means?” Robert asks. “It means there are now three shits wandering around somewhere, a rival to my throne, to the throne my child will one day sit on. And because of your damned indecision they got away. They got away!” that last is nearly roared.

His brother merely stands there. “I am sorry Your Grace, but there was nothing I could do. Saan had created more danger for me and my men than was advisable. I had to deal with him first.”

“Saan,” Robert bites out, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. “The pirate and his fleet, they kept you away from your objective, long enough for three children to escape? Is that what you are telling me?”

“Yes Your Grace.” Stannis responds.

Robert stares hard at his brother then, searching for any hint of a lie, he knows deep down that his brother fought hard over whether to side with him or the mad king during the rebellion, and whilst the large part of him wonders how anyone could want to fight for that mad shit and his son, he admires Stannis for his devotion to duty, even if he finds him annoying as his wife. Looking at him now he cannot see any hint of a lie, he asks. “Saan coming from nowhere makes no sense. Velaryon is a prisoner here, and has been for moons, Celtigar is too old and has no more money, and we took it all. Who then paid for the man to come to Dragonstone with his fleet?”

There is a long silence and then Stannis speaks. “Before he died, Saan spoke of someone who knew more about dragons than anyone else, who had the pull of the lords here more than you ever could Your Grace. He said that was the man who did the deed, who gave him the money to do this.”

“What?” Robert asks. “That makes no sense whatsoever.”

“It was not meant to make sense Your Grace,” Jon says, speaking now for the first time, his presence is reassuring, more reassuring now that Ned is gone. “It was something that was said to throw you off the main course. Saan was talking nonsense, likely because whoever it was that paid him told him to say such a thing. No, I do not believe the Targaryens or anyone within the crownlands had anything to do with it, this is more than likely something the Dornish have done.”

“Then let us give them the war they are so desperately craving!” Robert barks. “They are threatening my kingdom, I will destroy them, destroy them in a way the Young Dragon should have done when he had the chance.”

“Under what cause? Oberyn Martell calling for war is not the same as Prince Doran calling for war. So far Prince Doran has done nothing but reassure us he wants nothing more than peace and a time to grieve for his sisters.” Jon responds.

“Yet he has not done his duty and has not stopped his brother from stirring up trouble. That is as good as an act of war is it not?” Stannis asks.

Robert sees the look of hopelessness on Jon’s face and feels sorry for the man. “Do you want there to be another war Robert? There will be many more deaths, Dorne is not easy to take let alone hold. Should we provoke a war with them, we shall suffer more than they ever could.” Jon responds.

Robert looks at the man he considers a father, looks at him, and knows he is actually referring to Ned, Ned is not here, Ned is not speaking to him, there are so many things wrong now between him and Ned, it is not safe to wage war on Dorne. He looks Jon then and says. “You are right, still Stannis is right as well. Tell Prince Doran he must stop his brother, kill him if he has to, but he cannot allow that mad man to continue on his quest.”

Jon nods. “I shall do so Your Grace.”

Robert nods then looking at his brother says. “Return to Dragonstone, and ensure that the castle and its land are purged of any and all Targaryen loyalists, then once that is done you will assume Lordship duties of the island.”

His brother nods and then at that last looks stunned, even hurt. “But Your Grace, what of Storm’s End?”

“What of it?” Robert asks.

“It is mine by right as your eldest surviving brother.” Stannis says.

“And I have given you Dragonstone as is my right as king. Storm’s End is mine until I decide whose right it is to hold it in my name. Is that understood?” Robert responds fiercely.

His brother looks as if he is about to argue, but then he thinks better of it and merely bows once and says. “Of course Your Grace.”

“You may leave.” Robert says curtly, his brother bows once more, turns and walks out of the room, leaving Robert alone with his foster father.

“That was ill done Your Grace.” Jon says.

“What was?” Robert asks. “Giving Stannis Dragonstone? Please, he is my heir until this child is born, and until such time as he proves otherwise he shall maintain Dragonstone against those who would use it as a Bastian for the Targaryens. I do not trust anyone else to hold that place.”

“And what will you do with Storm’s End?” Jon asks.

“I shall keep it for now, and when the boy is old enough, I shall give to Renly. I will not have Storm’s End keep a fleet, not for now at least.” Robert responds.

He can tell Jon does not approve, but thankfully, the man does not continue on with that subject, instead he says. “There are three main issues that are left for us to discuss Your Grace. The first being, the issue of Jaime Lannister and his disappearance.”

“Oh for fuck…” Robert says. “If the Kingslayer has gone, all for the better I say, he killed one king, what is there to say he would not have killed me if the opportunity presented itself. I say he is dead, then he is dead.”

“And Tywin Lannister will place the blame for that squarely at your feet. The boy went missing on the day of your wedding. Others will wonder, and forget, but Tywin Lannister will not. He knows the name his son wields and he knows that it was you who gave it to him.” Jon says.

Robert looks at his foster father then and asks. “Are you implying the man might kill me in revenge?”

“Yes.” Jon says simply.

Anger flows through Robert then, white hot, strong. “Let him try, let him damned well try. I shall destroy him and the Westerlands if he so much dares.”

“You would antagonize him further Robert. Far better to allow him the chance to marry again and to sire sons. We cannot afford further war.” Jon responds calmly.

Robert looks at the man then and merely says. “Let the old shit marry whoever he wants, so long as he stops mentioning the damned Kingslayer I do not care. The Kingsguard only has two members so far though, Ser Barristan and Ser Mandon, we shall need more. How the fuck am I supposed to get more members now?”

“A tourney, a way to judge their prowess, a mock battle. That would be the best way, where you are the target, it would give them the chance to prove themselves before you and the realm.” Jon says.

“And a chance for me to kill some of these golden haired shits as well.” Robert says gleefully.

A frown creases Jon’s face then, but he merely nods. “Yes, indeed it would Your Grace.”

“Excellent, see to it that this is done. I want this to happen as soon as possible.” Robert responds.

“There is one more thing Your Grace.” Jon says.

Robert looks at the man and sighs. “I do not want to hear this again Jon. Not now.”

“So you would remain angry with him? You would keep him away, the man who fought to put you on the throne?” Jon asks.

“I would keep the man who kept Lyanna away from me, away from here. He chose his path, it is time he stuck to it. I shall not change my mind because of what was once there.” Robert says.

“Do not push him away Robert, he is your foster brother, surely you can see how advantageous it would be to have him back on your side? To have him fighting in your corner? Life is going to be difficult otherwise.” Jon says.

Robert looks at his foster father and growls. “I will consider it if he comes down from his icy fortress to apologise. His naivety nearly cost us this damned war. I will not move until he explains why he did not come back to formally tell me that Lyanna was dead.”

“Your Grace, surely you can see that Ned will not come unless you summon him. He is too dutiful to refuse a summons. Otherwise he shall not come.” Jon says.

Robert snorts. “If he does not come of his own volition I shall not demand he come south. I have other things to deal with than some man who knows that he was wrong and yet will not admit it.”

“Then things will be very difficult for us all for a long time, surely you can see that Your Grace?” Jon asks.

Robert looks at him and says. “Until Ned comes south to tell me exactly what happened with Lyanna I will not speak with him. I shall not force him to come south, nor will I ask him to come south. Nor will I go north, no until he comes to his senses perhaps it is best that we remain silent.”


	5. Lonesome Is The Long Distance Runner

**9 th Month of 284 A.C. Lys**

**Ser Jaime Lannister**

It had been a long journey, he could barely remember most of it, and yet he remembered all of it. That did not make sense to him, yet at the same time he knew it to be true. He knew he would never have done this for anyone else, not for his father, not for Tyrion, probably not even for Cersei, but for Prince Rhaegar, he had done it. He had abandoned all he had known, boarded a ship from King’s Landing and fought when his ship had gotten stuck in the fighting somewhere off the Stepstones, and he had gotten lost more times than he cares to remembered. Constantly avoiding his father’s agents, and the king’s agents, he had walked and walked, hidden, slept and crawled until he had found a way to get to Prince Rhaegar.  Jaime had seen Ser Arthur walking along the road and had followed him, and now here he was, in the house where the Prince and his family lived.  Here he was standing before his prince, on his knees, hoping against hope the prince would listen.

“So you have found me Ser Jaime.” Prince Rhaegar says, his voice sounding musical.

“Yes Your Grace. I have come to pledge my sword to you, and to give you my life.” Jaime says.

“He is lying Your Grace. He is the son of Tywin Lannister, the man who sacked King’s Landing, who ordered the death of the princess and prince Aegon. He is the man who killed King Aerys. He is an oath breaker and a traitor.” Ser Gerold says his voice booming.

“I did what needed to be done Ser Gerold. King Aerys was mad. We all know that, if I hadn’t killed him who would?” Jaime responds.

“Someone else, we know the Starks and their army came soon on the tails of your traitor of a father. Stark was owed a debt, but not you. You swore to protect the king, not kill him.” Ser Gerold barks.

“We are sworn to protect the king, even from himself. Aerys was mad, and we all know that, he had been mad for some time. Furthermore, he was going to destroy King’s Landing, the wildfire he had planted all around was ready and waiting. I had to do something.” Jaime responds, looking pleadingly at Prince Rhaegar.

The Prince merely looks at him wordlessly. Ser Gerold says. “And if you had to do something you could have protected the Princess and Prince Aegon. Why did you not do that?”

“Do not be ridiculous Gerold, you know damned well Jaime could not do that. Aerys had ordered him to remain here, how could he have protected them as well as obeyed his king?” Oswell responds his voice mocking.

Jaime sees the Lord Commander turn a disdainful eye on Oswell, and his heart begins to beat rapidly, this is not good, not good at all. “He swore a vow to protect the princess and her son. Did you not Ser Jaime?”

Jaime nods not taking his eyes of Prince Rhaegar. “I did. And the fact that I did not keep that promise, has haunted me from the moment I saw their bodies. I wanted to kill Robert Baratheon, I would have done had it not been for my father.”

“That did not stop you when it came to killing Aerys, why did it stop you then?” Ser Gerold asks, his voice more curious than accusatory.

Jaime hesitates then not sure of how to respond to such a question, his eyes are still locked onto Prince Rhaegar’s face. The Prince has remained expressionless during this conversation, and he has said nothing, making it hard for Jaime to gauge whether he is angry or not. His nerves are on end. He looks at the prince, and struggles to find the words, eventually he says. “I…I do not know. But I knew killing Robert would achieve nothing, I thought Prince Rhaegar dead.”

“Even if you thought that, you should have thought of Princess Rhaenys and Prince Viserys. They should have been on your mind, you did not go to them, and instead you bent the knee alongside that fool Barristan.” Ser Gerold spits.

Jaime feels his anger grow, but in the cool face of Prince Rhaegar it subsides, and once more he feels like a little boy being told of for some wrong he has done. “I could not get away right away, Robert was watching me more than he was watching Stark, despite the argument those two had had.”

Ser Gerold snorts. “Excuses, excuses, you are making up for the lie you have had to tell yourself the moment you bent the knee to that idiot Stormlord.”

“I left as soon as I could Ser Gerold, the first opportunity I got I left, and I looked for a way to come here. To where I thought I could make some difference.” Jaime responds, looking at the Prince pleadingly, still Prince Rhaegar says nothing.

“How did you know to come to Lys?” Ser Arthur asks. “If you thought Prince Rhaegar dead, how did you know to come here?”

Jaime thinks for a moment and then says slowly. “I…I remember speaking with Prince Rhaegar before he was to leave for the Trident, and I remember asking him about the use of his bastard brother in the ruse. I remember him saying something about going away, and then I thought no more on it. Until I remembered something else. I remember being told that Lys had always been known for exiles, and I thought I might as well try there.”

“So you lied when you said you thought the prince was dead?” Ser Gerold asks. The man turns toward Prince Rhaegar. “My prince, I urge you, strike this man from your sight now and cut his tongue out. He is nothing but a rat, sent here by his father.”

The prince says nothing, but Ser Arthur says. “Gods dammit Gerold, how could he be a rat. We know that Lord Tywin thinks Jaime dead, why else would he be looking for a new wife?”

Jaime is taken aback by this, but pushes it to the side, he will have time to think on this later on. Now he merely keeps his eyes focussed on Prince Rhaegar and says. “I admit, I thought you dead, and how could you not be my prince? There was nothing from you, I did not know where you had gone. But then I remembered, and I knew I had to come and find you if I could. Please, I am deeply sorry for not doing more to protect Princess Elia and Prince Aegon, and I will be haunted by their deaths for the rest of my days, but please, you must know I am yours, from now until the day I die, I swear it.”

“How do we know you are not lying Ser Jaime?” Gerold asks.

Before Jaime can respond, Prince Rhaegar speaks, his voice calm. “Enough Ser Gerold, enough. I have heard enough about this. Jaime is here, and as of now no men from the Lannisters came with him, did they Jaime?” Jaime shakes his head. “Good, now shall we begin discussing things like adults?” Rhaegar stands then, and puts his hands on Jaime’s shoulders. “Rise Ser Jaime, and come into my peace. I know you meant to defend Elia and Aegon, but well, we all make mistakes. There is no time to brood over them, we must speak on other things.”

Jaime takes the seat offered him not quite sure of what is happening now, but too relieved to question it. He waits for Prince Rhaegar to speak once more and when he does the question that comes forth from the man is not one he was expecting. “Do you wish to remain in the Kingsguard?”

“Your Grace?” Jaime asks.

“Do you wish to remain in the Kingsguard? I know some view it as an honour, but over the past few years I have begun wondering if it is not more of a chain around one’s neck. Tying them to someone they deem unworthy of their service. I do not intend to be like my father, but I will make mistakes, and I will need to do things that are not chivalrous, I need to know if you will be comfortable being my guardian during those times, and guarding my wife and children?” Prince Rhaegar asks.

Jaime considers this for a long moment, he thinks of the things he had to witness as a Kingsguard to King Aerys, and what he saw in his brief time as a Kingsguard to Robert, and he feels his stomach begin to churn. But then he looks at the man before him and he thinks of all the promise that Prince Rhaegar has, he thinks of all the good the man could do, all the while trying to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that is whispering that the prince might be just as bad if not worse than his father, considering prior actions. He tries to push that voice down, too far too down for it to matter, but it refuses to go. Eventually he says. “I do not know Your Grace.”

Jaime fears he has said something wrong by the silence that follows, and as it stretches on, he considers changing his answer, but eventually Prince Rhaegar speaks. “Good, I would not want you to make a decision out of some sense of misplaced loyalty. Do whatever it is you wish to do, I will not force you into anything, not like your sister.” Jaime blushes slightly at that, and the prince grins. “So, tell me, what do you know of my cousin’s court?”

“I know that he and Lord Stark have fallen out, and are not speaking, and that Robert does not even want to consider making amends with the man. I know that Lord Arryn is slowly being pushed into handling more of the day to day affairs of the realm, or at least he was when I left. Robert seems to enjoy the spectre of being a king more than he enjoys actually ruling. That is what I gathered from my time as a Kingsguard for him.” Jaime responds.

The prince merely nods at this whilst Jaime sees his fellow Kingsguard brothers smile. “Very well, and what of the court itself. Is the atmosphere as poisonous as it was during my father’s time?”

“Robert has kept Simon Staunton as master of laws, and has imprisoned Monford Velaryon. Furthermore, he has also kept some or most of the fools and flatterers that were there during the latter part of King Aerys reign, simply because he means to see them all executed for some crime or the other.” Jaime says.

“It seems the usurper’s blood lust is not completely sated then.” Oswell quips.

“Indeed not, go on Ser Jaime.” Prince Rhaegar says.

Jaime takes a deep breath and then goes on. “Robert has also pardoned Varys, and Pycelle. He knows one works for someone other than the crown but he is not sure whom. Varys it seems is playing some game or the other, trying to keep himself close to the centre of power. Whilst Pycelle, merely gravitates towards my sister as if she is our father come again.”

There is a roar of laughter at that, led by Ser Oswell, and then it quietens down when Prince Rhaegar raises a hand. “What of your father, Ser Jaime. What does he do?”

“He is at court, well he was. He was trying to get the best possible position for himself and our family in Robert’s court, and it seems Robert was willing to allow that to happen. Mainly because my father promised to lead the party to Dragonstone, or was it to fund the building of a new royal fleet I do not know.” Jaime responds.

The prince’s face goes dark then. “Good thing that they managed to get away.” There is a pause then. Then the prince looks at him and asks. “Tell me Jaime, how would you feel becoming Lord of Casterly Rock?”

* * *

 

**12 th Month, 284 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

It still felt strange being Lord of Winterfell, sitting where his father had once sat, it felt wrong. This should have been Brandon’s it all should have been Brandon’s, there had been times over the past year when Ned had felt like screaming, at cursing Lyanna and her damned husband for doing what they had done. And then there were times when he resented Robert, and Brandon and all of them for forcing this upon him. Then there was a small part of him that actually liked being Lord of Winterfell, of having a beautiful wife and a growing family, a part of that was glad of the security such a thing offered. It was why he could never understand Benjen wanting to go off to the watch, he had said he would speak with his brother when he became a man, and that day had come and gone, and now Ned had called his brother to his solar and was determined to convince him not to go.

Ned looks at his brother and marvels at just how much like Brandon, Benjen looks, there is the same easy way, and the same arrogance there, but Benjen is much sweeter than Brandon ever was, Catelyn has said as much. “I told you I would speak to you about your wish to join the Night’s Watch when you became a man. You are a man now, and have been for some time. If you wish to join the watch I would hear your reasons now.”

His brother is silent for a long time, so long in fact, that Ned begins to wonder if he has heard him or not. When he does speak his voice is soft. “I do not know any more Ned.”

“What don’t you know any more Benjen?” Ned asks.

“I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.” Benjen responds.

“And why is that?” Ned asks.

His brother hesitates for a long moment then, and when he speaks his voice is even softer, if such a thing were possible. “Because of you and Cat, and the fact that Lyanna is out there somewhere, and I made a promise.”

“What do you mean?” Ned asks intrigued.

“I mean, before, I thought it was all so simple. I’d go to the wall and make a name for myself. I’d do what I never could before, I’d actually make a difference, and it wouldn’t matter that I was gone because you’d be there, Brandon would be there. And then the war happened, and I wanted to go to the wall because I had made a mistake, a terrible mistake. And now, well now I don’t know anymore.” Benjen responds. “I, I feel confused. I do not want to go anywhere now, I don’t want to Miss Robb and Sansa growing up, I don’t want to miss this, I don’t want to miss anything anymore. For the first time, we feel like a family. I don’t remember mother, but I know we were never a family once she died. I don’t want that to stop. But I don’t want to feel like I am imposing.”

“You would never impose, Benjen, you are my brother, Winterfell is your home. You could never impose. So long as you wish it, you will always be welcome here.” Ned says.

His brother looks at him a moment and then asks. “Do you mean that Ned? Truly?”

“Of course I do!” Ned says. “Why would I not?”

“Because of what I did, and what I did not say.” His brother says softly.

Ned sighs. “Benjen, you did what our sister asked of you, and I know that Lyanna can be very persuasive if she asks nicely. You did not know exactly what she planned on doing nor the consequences it could have or did have. You are not to blame for the actions of others, older and wiser than you. Should you have told father, certainly, do I blame you for not telling him? No of course not. Father was many things, but he was not approachable.”

“But if I had said something, perhaps none of this would have happened, perhaps father and Brandon would still be alive, and Lyanna would never have been forced to flee.” Benjen says almost desperately.

“I do not think so Benjen. Father was planning something, I am most certain of that, and regardless of whether or not you had said something, Brandon would have gone south like a mad man regardless. He acted before he thought, and father would have had to go south to sort out his mess.” Ned says.

His brother looks at him his face filled with desperation, as if he truly wants to believe the words Ned is saying. “Truly Ned? You truly think that war was inevitable?”

Ned looks at his brother, and sighs deeply. “I think it was. There was too much happening before Harrenhal that meant even if Rhaegar had not taken Lyanna something was bound to happen. Father made sure of that. And we just finished it.”

“What do you mean Ned?” his brother asks.

Ned looks at his brother and debates whether or not he should tell his brother what he thinks, but he knows that can wait. His brother is still young yet, gods so is he? They will have time yet to discuss all of it. “Nothing, ignore me. I am merely tired Benjen. So what will your decision be? Or do you need more time to decide?”

His brother is silent for a long time then, a very long time. As Ned looks at his brother, he wonders just what happened in Winterfell when their father was alive, his brother seems so afraid of something that he does not know what to do. How does he fix something, when he does not know what is wrong?  Eventually his brother speaks. “I…I do not wish to head north to the wall Ned. I do not know what I want to do, but the wall does not appeal to me right now.”

Ned sighs in relief. “Very well Benjen that is perfectly fine. You are young yet, you can have time to live life, and if you still want to go to the wall later on you can.”

His brother smiles then. “Thank you Ned, thank you very much!” with that they stand up and Ned sees his brother out of the solar, before returning to the table and sitting down once more. He sighs once again, he knows his brother means well, but in time Ned will need to shatter any illusions he has about their family, and that, that will be the hardest thing to do. Ned looks once more at the letters before him, the proof of what his father was planning, left in an old room his father used, that Ned only found by mistake. He looks at the letters again, trying to find some proof, anything that will make him feel less like a criminal than he already does, alas it is in vain. Picking up the letters, Ned pockets them, and then opens the door and walks out of the solar.

He stops by the nursery, where his son and daughter are sleeping, he looks at them both and smiles slightly. They look so beautiful there, sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world. If he could, Ned would make sure they never had any troubles whatsoever, but he knows that such a thing is not possible, the world is a cruel place, and Ned does not know what the future will hold, especially with Rhaegar being across the narrow sea. Robert, has sent no word to Winterfell, and Ned does not intend to speak with the man until he does so. The words Robert said, still ring loudly in his ears, he will not see that man again. Not unless he has to. Ned looks one last time at his son and daughter and then turns and leaves the room.

As he walks down the hall toward his room, he sees Martyn Cassel coming toward him, and so Ned stops and waits for the old man to come near. When the man stops near him, Ned asks. “What is it Martyn?”

“Word has come from Willam my lord.” Martyn replies. “He’s found one of the spider’s men lurking within Barrowton.”

Ned feels his heart quicken then. “And? What did the man have to say?”

“He said nothing my lord, he killed himself before Willam could question him, though there were some things with him. Letters, journals, all kinds of things.” Martyn says. “And my lord, there was something of Lord Brandon’s in his possession as well.”

Ned feels his heart stop for a moment, and then he asks. “And what were in these letters and journals?”

“Correspondence between Lord Rickard and Willam’s father, as well as between Willam’s father and a man in the south whose name is not mentioned. But it seems their messages were quite clear.” Martyn responds.

“What were their messages?” Ned asks.

“War.” Martyn says.

“Willam destroyed these things I trust?” Ned asks.

Martyn nods. “Yes my lord he did. He destroyed every single last one of them. Apart from Lord Brandon’s possession my lord. That he thought best to bring here to Winterfell, for you to decide on.”

“Good, that is good.” Ned responds. “Willam looked into the thing that belonged to Brandon’s?”

“No my lord, it was sealed shut, and he believes that only something within Winterfell can open it. Either that or he did not wish to intrude.” Martyn responds. The man pauses a moment and then says. “That does of course mean there is one less spy here my lord. But there will be more.”

“Of course, it seems Robert does not trust me enough, he is relying on these damned spiders to do his dirty work. I want them all found and killed before the year is out. I will not have this damned thing hanging over my head for the rest of my life.” Ned responds.

“Of course my lord, shall I send word to the others who were at the tower?” Martyn asks.

“Yes, tell them that we must meet, but not at Winterfell, I will not risk my brother or wife finding out just yet. We must make absolutely sure that there is nothing left before we can send word to Rhaegar.” Ned responds.

“Of course my lord.” Martyn responds.

Ned is silent a moment and then he says. “Come we must go down, I must make sure all is well down below, otherwise this will all be for naught.”

Martyn nods and then they are walking from the hallway, passed the other rooms, and though Ned aches when he sees the candle burning through the partially open door, he pushes the thought from his mind, he will have time enough for his wife later, for now he must make sure this is done right. They walk out into the open, and then past the broken tower, and then through another door into the chamber where Ned once hid with Brandon when father was angry. Then he pushes open a door and takes the candle from Martyn, and walks forward, moving past one statue and then another, he walks passed them all until he comes to the one of Cregan Stark. The old man of the north was a fierce man in his day, terrifying if the tales are to be believed. Ned has always wondered at him, wondered if there was some more truth to the tales than they liked to remember. He hands the candle to Martyn and bends down, he feels for the latch and then pulls, and coughs slightly as dust comes up, as the latch moves and a box is revealed, he takes the box from within. Looking at Martyn he says. “Wait here, I shall go alone.” the man nods and Ned walks on trusting his eyes to not lead him astray, he knows that the crypts beneath them are where the dead lay, but here, here is where their treasures are kept, and once, he found the doorway, he knew there was no turning back. He stops before it now, engraved in the runes of the first men, he swallows, opens the box and looks into it and sees the eggs glistening, three eggs, one red, one green and one blue, he takes a breath and then closes the lid, walks through the doorway, and stops before another chamber. Then he opens the door and places the chest inside, he looks briefly at the statue and feels reassurance, the figure is still there, carved in a likeness of the conqueror, its dragon looks at Ned, and he smiles.


	6. Lion And Sun

**3 rd Month of 285 A.C. Casterly Rock**

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

His daughter was the Queen and had given the new king an heir, two heirs in fact, two boys named Joffrey and Tommen and it seemed that there would be one more child on the way if what Cersei said was true. Tywin was relieved at the news, he had feared that something might happen to make the marriage not work according to plan, yet Cersei had done as she had been told and had made the Baratheon king her puppet, he refused her nothing, and that, that was good. The tension between Stark and Baratheon was still there even now and Tywin continued to exploit it, he needed to make the gulf widen though. And that was why he had called his brothers into his solar.

“Cersei has given the king an heir and a spare now, and yet our influence at court is yet to reach the peak as it did during Aerys reign. Jon Arryn remains firmly within the way of that, and as such he must needs be dealt with. Those serving on Robert’s council are falling under my sway, yet Arryn’s presence there will hinder my plans.” Tywin says.

“What do you suggest we do then brother? Other than killing the one man Baratheon actually listens to?” his brother Tygett asks.

Tywin has never liked Tygett, his brother has always been hostile toward him, and for reasons he has never truly understood. It is with some control that he replies. “Killing Jon Arryn is not necessary, not yet anyway. No I merely mean to ensure Baratheon remembers who it is who is keeping the kingdoms from going to war.”

“And you truly think that, that is you brother?” Tygett exclaims. “Whatever made you get so delusional?”

Tywin feels his anger grow then. “Delusions are what you had brother when you were younger, I am merely stating a reality. The throne was in debt to many places beforehand, and it was my skills that ensured that Robert did not have to worry about such things. It was me who ensured that after Mace Tyrell bent the knee, his knees remained bent. That man could have posed a significant threat to the peace and yet he remained on bended knee, because of what I told him. I and his mother have ensured that those who still harbour Targaryen loyalties are either dead or forced underground.”

“And whatever of Dorne brother?” Tygett asks. “Have you forgotten just how much hatred and bile they are throwing at us when we met for Joffrey’s birthing ceremony? Your actions have brought Dorne’s enmity on our kingdom and family. Ruining all Joanna did.”

“You do not have the right to mention her. You never did brother, and you shall refrain from doing so again.” Tywin says simply. Tygett looks at him, his gaze fierce, but he says nothing, instead he falls silent. Tywin turns his attention to Kevan. “A vacancy has arrived on the small council. The old master of laws has died and as such I shall recommend you to Jon Arryn and as the man knows what is good for him, he shall recommend you to the king. The king will formally offer you the position and you shall accept it.”

His second and much more amiable brother nods. “Of course, and when I am in King’s Landing what am I to do?”

“You are to make sure our influence continues to grow. Cersei has ensured our cousins are in positions of some power within the city, but now we must dominate the court. You shall take a strong retinue with you, when you go and ensure they are well provided for. Furthermore, you shall ensure Jon Arryn is reminded of the agreement we struck before the rebellion began.” Tywin says.

His brother looks at him a moment and then nods. “Of course. I shall also ensure that Cersei does not do anything that might well engender our standing with the king. And I shall take steps to ensure the question is answered.”

“Question?” Gerion asks. “What question?”

“The question of what truly happened in Dorne, and to Lyanna Stark.” Tywin responds. “Eddard Stark claims one thing, but everything he has said on the matter does not make sense to me. There are too many gaps there.”

“So you would call a man who most of the realm knows for his honour and dedication to duty a liar? Truly brother that is a new low, even for you.” Tygett says.

Tywin looks at his brother then, and merely says. “I am doing what is necessary to ensure this family is safe. Eddard Stark is a dangerous man, he has shown that by his continued silence toward the king. He is his father’s son, far more than that oaf Brandon ever was. We must ensure that all ends are looked at and covered, I will not have something come back to haunt our family.”

“And what sort of things could a dead girl bring to haunt us with brother?” Tygett asks. “The point being she is dead. Any secrets she had would have died with her, there is not a point for Stark to have taken them with him. He and the King might not have spoken to one another, but they did grow up with one another. That bond is strong, we all know that.”

“For one as experienced as you are brother, you surely are naïve.” Gerion says.

“Naïve? And how is that brother, pray tell.” Tygett responds.

“Well, you assume that the war did not change the two friends. War changes everyone, we all know that. There is no excuse for it, but it is a fact of life. What is there to suggest, something did not happen that changed the two former friends? Something might well have done, for their silence toward one another is deafening. Even in Dorne and in the ports they speak of it.” Gerion replies.

“Speak of what exactly?” Tywin asks intrigued.

“Of how the wolf and the stag argued. The singers sing their songs of how the King fought for Lady Lyanna, and yet there is a darker part of the city, a part that sings of how she shunned him to be with Rhaegar. It is this part that I believe the King might well be listening to. Who knows what goes in within a king’s mind? But I can assure you, that most of the king and his friend’s silence is due to the Lady Lyanna.” Gerion replies a grin on his face.

Tywin considers this a moment and then looking at Gerion says. “How much more can your sources gather from these places? Without it looking too obvious.”

His brother’s grin widens. “Oh much and more brother. We can gather as much as you want us to gather. But to what end is what I wish to know.”

“The king and Stark must not speak with one another for a long period of time. The longer they go without speaking to one another, the more a divide will grow between them. We can work within this divide, and make it so that our own interests are looked after.” Tywin says. He takes a sip of wine and then turns to his brother Kevan. “You must ensure that Cersei knows of her role. So far she has done a good job at keeping Robert satisfied that must not suffer. It must continue to grow, the more she does this, the more he will be hers.”

“Of course brother.” Kevan replies nodding.

A silence follows this and Tywin considers his children, Cersei, the Queen she was always meant to be, someone who the kingdoms can grow to love as a Queen, then there is the dwarf, the dwarf who must be dealt with and soon. Then there is his son by his second wife, Gerold, named after his grandfather, this son shall not let him down, not like the other boy did. And for that he must know where the opposition is. “Tell me Tygett, what word have you got on Tyrion’s movements?”

Tygett looks surprised then, but replies all the same. “Nothing, brother. He spends his time in the Rock, as you will not let him out, nor will he speak of much. He spends most of his time in the library.” his brother pauses and then comes the questions that Tywin has been expecting. “Tell me Tywin, what are you going to do with Tyrion? You have another son in Gerold, but you have never spoken of what you would do with your eldest surviving son and heir.”

Tywin fixes his brother with a cool gaze. “Tyrion is not my heir, he is a dwarf, and no dwarf can sit the lion’s throne. He shall be kept within Casterly Rock where I can keep an eye on him. Gerold is my heir, and has been recognised as such by the king.”

“So you would waste Tyrion’s potential, for some petty grievance?” Tygett asks.

Tywin feels his anger grow then. “Tyrion is a danger to this house. Our father was a laughing stock, as will Tyrion be should he ever come to power. I will not allow that. Already he displays the characteristics that would make others laugh and use him. He is a dwarf, he is given to vice, and more than that, he never knows when to keep quiet.”

“And you forget that he is a smart child, he knows the Westerlands, more so than Jaime ever did. He knows the lords and he has an interest in doing the right thing. He wants to learn more, and yet you would spurn him in favour of a babe? That too, the babe of a Lefford? What is this madness?” Tygett exclaims.

“I will not be questioned on my decision Tygett. You are here by the grace of our shared blood. If you have something useful to contribute share it now or leave.” Tywin says forcefully.

His brother stands up then, and his voice is filled with venom when he says. “You are making a grave mistake by doing this Tywin. But as always, since Joanna died, you are too blind to see it. I wish you well, brother. I no longer wish to be part of your folly.”

His brother turns to leave, but before he can, Tywin speaks. “And where exactly do you think you are going brother?”

“Away from here and the madness that seems to be infecting everyone. If you want to ruin this family, then go ahead. But I will not be here to witness it.” Tygett snarls.

“And where pray tell do you think you would go, brother?” Tywin asks. “The West is mine and the lords will do as I tell them to. The Reach is in alliance with the Rock, and would refuse if you asked. Dorne would kill you on sight. I do not think the Riverlands or the North would welcome you either. The King would do as I asked as well, so you are limited in where you wish to go. If you wish to leave all you know behind then be my guest. I shall not stop you. But I will not protect you, not anymore. When your rages come, you shall be left to fend for yourself. Can you handle that?”

If he were the sort of man to smile, he would, he knows his brother’s one weakness, the rages he get which are terrifying to behold, and limit him to something less than a man. His brother looks at him murder in his eyes. “You are a monster, brother. A true monster.”

“I am not a monster brother, a monster would kill you now and not feel anything for it. I would feel guilt for doing such a thing. Now what are you going to do?” Tywin asks.

With a sigh, Tygett sits down. “Good.” Tywin says. “I would hate to tell Darlessa that she can no longer marry you.” He hides a smile behind his wine cup, his brother is so easy to play.

* * *

 

**6 th Month of 285 A.C. Sunspear**

**Prince Oberyn Martell**

Anger was his constant companion these days, that and a constant sense of loneliness, oh he loved Ellaria and their girls alright, and he loved his other daughters, but they could not fill the void that Elia had left. Every day he woke up screaming for his sister, hoping against hope that his nightmare had been just that, that she was still alive, and that her children where alive. He remembered when she had come to Dorne to visit once before the rebellion, she had seemed happy, and he had been happy. And then he had been sent away, and had only come back when it was too late. She was dead, her son was dead, but her daughter, Rhaenys, still lived. And yet here they were, doing nothing, it was driving him mad.

Looking at his brother now, Oberyn feels anger flare within him once more. How can his brother sit there so sedately, whilst their niece is somewhere out there her fate uncertain. It angers him, it angers him a lot. When he cannot take the silence anymore he speaks. “Well, why have you summoned me here brother? I did not say anything last year when Jon Arryn came with our uncle and sister’s bones and those damned terms. I did not say anything when you gave into those terms like a coward. I said nothing when you promised him you would not go looking for the dragons. Why are you summoning me here? What wrong have I done now?”

Silence follows this, and it stretches on, Oberyn can feel his anger growing ever hotter as the silence continues to stretch on. Eventually his brother speaks. “Sit down Oberyn, you will hurt your leg if you continue standing.”

Oberyn feels his anger grow ever hotter. “Sit down? Sit down? I will not bloody well sit down brother. This is a grave wrong that you have done. Allowing Dorne to bend to that man, that oaf who sits on Aegon’s throne. How could you stomach doing such a thing? Did you lose your manhood during the war? Oh wait?! You did not even fight in the war. You were content to remain out of the war until Uncle Lewyn came from King’s Landing and reminded you of what was at stake should we not fight.”

His brother remains silent and then says calmly. “Sit down Oberyn.”

“Why?” Oberyn fumes. “Why should I sit down?!”

“Because if you do sit down, I shall talk to you like you are a man grown, not a petulant child in need of a spanking. You are a man grown with children of your own brother. It is time you acted that way.” Doran says simply.

He is not sure if it is simple anger that makes him do it, or mere surprise, but he does sit down, and when he does he looks at his brother and says. “Speak, and speak quickly, I do not have the patience for riddles.”

His brother sighs then. “Ah Oberyn, my brother, ever the hot headed one. You never did take time to stop and think did you? No you were too busy trying to raise Dorne for more war.  A gesture that nearly cost our family everything our mother had ever worked for. You did not think of that though now did you. So stuck in your grief were you. I suppose I cannot blame you. You are not the ruling prince, you do not have to think of all the burden that comes with the title.”

“I will not give you pity, so do not ask for it.” Oberyn snaps.

“I am not asking for your pity brother, I am merely asking for you to understand where I am coming from.” Doran says. His brother takes a breath and then says. “It is true, I did not send men to fight before uncle Lewyn came, and that was something I regret, perhaps if I had sent men earlier we might well have changed the tide of the war. Perhaps we might not have done, perhaps if I had sent someone to find you beforehand, we could have stopped this all from happening, but I did not. I could not.”

“What do you mean you could not?” Oberyn asks incredulously. “You are the damned Prince of Dorne, you can do what you want.”

His brother sighs. “A lie, a lie our mother cultivated during the dark days before the war of the ninepenny kings and the years after it. You were too young to remember, but our grandfather was not a good ruler, he did many things that nearly brought us tumbling down from power. Our mother worked very hard to ensure that our family would never fall down to those depths ever again. And she taught me that the surest way to avoid such a thing, was to not enter into something we could not win.”

“Are you giving me an excuse? What do you even mean?” Oberyn snaps.

“When Rhaegar took Lyanna Stark he started something that no one could truly have predicted, or even if they had, they could not stop. The forces at work that were determined to ensure the kingdoms burned. I could not stop that, despite my truest intentions I could not stop it. Perhaps I even helped start it. I do not know.” Doran says.

“What are you talking about? You are not making sense, brother. And I do not know what this has to do with everything else.” Oberyn snaps.

“Harrenhal, it was where we were to overthrow Aerys as you know, and yet there was one attempt before that. An attempt to ensure that Aerys never held power again. Or that Tywin did. Where a woman from Myr ensured that Aerys lost his mind.” Doran says.

The revelation hits him hard then. “You cannot be serious. How is that even possible?”

“Serala was not from Myr. A lie concocted as an act of revenge for a past wrong. One that we do not have time to speak of now. There are other things we must speak on.” Doran says hurriedly.

“No. You cannot say something like that, and not go into it. Either say what you mean, or do not bring it up at all brother.” Oberyn snarls.

“It is not important to what I have to tell you now brother. What I have to tell you now is far more important.” Doran snaps.

“What could be more important that this?” Oberyn asks.

His brother takes a deep breath then and says. “I knew where Lyanna and Rhaegar were throughout the rebellion, brother. I knew where they were and I did nothing about it. There was much and more I could have done, but I did nothing and I sat and waited.”

The shock of this revelation hits Oberyn hard. “Why?”

His brother looks at him then, and Oberyn is surprised to find his brother has tears in his eyes, never has he seen Doran cry. “Because, I could not do anything. Harming either one of them would have meant certain death for Elia. And that is because of a choice I made when I introduced Serala to the world.” his brother swallows then, Oberyn can feel his anger simmering. “I know you are angry, but there is more to this. Everything I agreed to with Jon Arryn was a mere ruse. It had to be done, it had to be. I cannot allow secrets coming out. They do not know where Rhaenys is, and I do not intend to allow them to ever know.”

“Where is she?” Oberyn asks eagerly.

“Before I tell you that, I must know, how far are you willing to go, to see our niece restored to her rightful throne?” his brother asks.

“Through each of the seven hells and back. I will do whatever it takes to see Rhaenys on her throne. Now tell me where she is.” Oberyn demands.

His brother takes a deep breath and then says. “Pentos. The usurper believes her to be in Braavos, but that, that is a lie. I know that she will be safe in Pentos for a time.”

“How can you be so sure?” Oberyn asks.

“Because the person she is with knows exactly what he can lose if he talks.” Doran responds.

“And who is this person?” Oberyn asks.

“Your comrade, Aegor.” Doran says.

Oberyn feels something hit him and then he says softly. “Aegor? Our niece is with Aegor? The man knows what to do with war and secrecy, but children? Please tell me Ser Willam is with her.”

“Of course he is. I am not so great a fool as to allow the man not to go with her. Ser Willam owed more loyalty to Rhaegar than he ever did to Aerys. The man would know what to do should Aegor try anything.” Doran responds.

“And what of Viserys and Daenerys? Are they with her? Or did they go their separate ways?” Oberyn asks.

His brother is silent a moment, and then replies. “I believe they are with Rhaenys and Ser Willam yes. From what I know they would be, but a false trail has been laid for the usurper.”

Oberyn looks at his brother and asks. “And what of our role within this? What are we to do?”

“We are to ensure that there is enough room for them to manoeuvre into when the time comes. We are to ensure that those with loyalties to the dragons remember exactly where it is that they got their rank within life from. And you, you are to go and negotiate an alliance.” Doran responds.

“An alliance? With who?” Oberyn asks.

“The Starks, and the Tullys.” his brother responds.

“What?!” Oberyn exclaims.  “Why in the name of the seven and the Mother Rhoyne would I do that?”

“Because Lannister influence is growing at court, and the rift between Stark and Baratheon grows deeper every day. Because the more time we spend wasting here, is more time spent allowing time for an attempt to heal that rift. I will not allow that. We have been tasked with making things ready for when our niece comes back, and I will ensure that that is the case. The only way to do that is by ensuring we have powerful allies, and the Starks and the Tullys are those allies.” Doran says calmly.

“Why them those two though?” Oberyn asks. “They are the reason Elia and Aegon are dead. That damned Stark girl caused Rhaegar to forget what he needed to do, that family caused the war and now you want to ally with them?”

“They are the two houses who can cause the most headaches for the new regime. Stark knows more about Baratheon and Arryn than anyone else alive. Tully has been built fortresses along the border with the west, and has the ability to drain them within the kingdom should war come. We would be fools not to take advantage of such blatant hostility both regions have for Baratheon.” Doran responds.

Oberyn looks at his brother then and says. “I will do this, but I will not like it. And if I even get a scent that things are not what they seem I will either kill them or I will leave. I will not risk everything our niece has for two houses who so readily turned on their king.”

His brother looks at him and responds. “They will do what is in their interest, if we act now, then we can ensure that that our interests align. I will not allow anything bad to happen to our niece.”

“Very well.” Oberyn responds. “When do you wish for me to leave for the north?”

Doran smiles then, a rare occurrence. “Well, first you are not to go north just yet. No, you are to go to Pentos. I want you to bring our niece home. It is time we began our plans, and we begin it right now.”


	7. Pack Divided

**9 th Month of 285 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

It had been a trying few months, there had been the issue with his friends from the tower that had needed dealing with, Brandon as always leaving him a mess to clean up, and the issues with what his father had been planning had been rearing their ugly head once more. Sometimes, Ned wished he could just give it all up, there were times when he cursed the gods for handing him this chalice, and then there were other times, times when he would look at Cat and their children, all three of their beautiful children and he would wonder how he could ever want to give this up. It was something he could never truly understand, but now with Benjen married and prepared to move forward as well, it seemed things were finally going to be alright. Of course as always, there was a part of him that felt sad about the nonexistence of his friendship with Robert, but he pushed such thoughts aside for now and focused on the lords before him.

Ned takes a deep breath and then speaks. “Lord Cerwyn, Lord Manderly thank you very much for coming today. I appreciate that with winter having ended, there is much and more that we all need to be doing, but I promise that what I have to discuss with you today will be of great interest to you both.” Ned pauses allowing himself time to gauge the two lords reactions, old Lord Cerwyn is looking at him with a lot of eagerness, the Cerwyns have always been staunch allies to Winterfell, even though they might well have a better claim to it than Ned’s line does. He pushes that thought from his mind, Manderly is looking at him with some curiosity, and he knows the man has reservations about him, but perhaps this will ease them. He takes a breath and then continues. “For too long the north has merely gotten by on the meagre production of grain and wool, and the odd silver that is found in White Harbour. We have so much more potential, the mountain cows that we have are some of the finest within Westeros, and they also produce the finest meat within the seven kingdoms, something that has been proven time and time again. Our horses produced in the Rills and Barrowton are in high demand in the Riverlands and the Westerlands as well as in Dorne. We must exploit this whilst we can, and now I believe is the time to do it. My lords, I propose we begin construction of a canal.  On the western tributary of the White Knife, where it meets with the main part of the White Knife, trade can flow in through White Harbour and out into Cerwyn and Winterfell lands. The benefit we could gain from such a thing cannot be under spoken.”

He pauses and allows this to be digested by the two lords, as always Cerwyn is the first to speak. “I think that this is a very smart idea my lord, and something that could well be exploited to further develop the north, and with relations with the throne not being completely cordial, perhaps this might aid in our development?”

Ned knows that Cerwyn is being so enthusiastic about this as it means if the project does go ahead, he will have a strong income coming in, and something sufficient enough to leave to his daughter and Benjen. Lord Wyman however is somewhat sceptical. “Building such a thing, would be quite costly. Furthermore, we have just come out of a winter, where will we find the men for such a thing?”

Ned had expected such a question and so presents his answer. “Whilst we have had a winter, it is not as harsh as was expected. We have men who are desperate for work, women as well. It would be a crime to not allow them to do as they wish, give them work on this canal and they will not resort to their usual means. Furthermore, I know that my goodfather Lord Hoster would be more than willing to send men to work on the canal alongside us.”

Wyman looks at the map before them and asks. “So if I have understood you correctly me lord, you would see the canal built where the western and northern tributaries of the white knife meet.”

“That is correct my lord.” Ned says nodding in agreement.

Lord Wyman looks at the map again before asking. “And what would the taxes be like? Trade would come from Gulltown and the Vale, from the Free Cities, as well as from the other parts of the kingdom. That is a lot more trade coming into the north than at present, what rate of tax would you set for the people bringing their goods here, and what rate would be charged to go to Winterfell?”

Ned considers this a moment and then responds. “Considering the feeling between Winterfell and the Iron Throne at this moment, it would not do to overly antagonise the king, and so the rate of fifteen percent of the goods the vessel carries seems reasonable to me. As to what the percent of this cut going to Winterfell would be, I do believe seven percent would be a fair price to pay for the beginning. Let us asses the level of demand before we increase or decrease it.”

Lord Wyman considers this silently for a moment before nodding his agreement. “Very well then, I accept these terms. What I wish to know now my lord, is when do you intend to begin building the canal? Such things do take time, and we cannot afford to waste such time if we are to have this running before long.”

Lord Cerwyn voices his agreement. “I believe Lord Wyman is correct my lord, the sooner the better I believe. There is nothing worse than allowing such a thing to go unchecked as it were.”

Ned looks at them both before replying. “I intend to start building the canal within the next moon. I merely needed your consent before building began. I expect you both to raise a suitable amount of men for the task at hand, whilst men from Winterfell and other areas of the north shall be joining us as well.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Lord Wyman says. “Very well then, I shall make sure that this is made a top priority within White Harbour.”

“I shall do the same.” Lord Cerwyn responds. Both men stand up then and shake his hand before turning and departing.

A moment later, Benjen enters the room, his brother is beginning to look more and more and like Brandon by the day. Tall, handsome and with an easy smile on his face, Ned feels jealous of his younger brother sometimes, and he wonders at that. “How did it go?” Benjen asks, sitting down into the chair previously occupied by Lord Wyman.

Ned rubs his eye tiredly. “As well as could be hoped. Both were receptive to the idea, of course I always knew Cerwyn would be. It was a case of making sure Wyman was as well. And it turns out he was, so all is well for now. When it comes time to building the actual canal, well that in itself will tell us what we need to know.” Ned pauses a moment and then asks his brother. “How is Jonella doing?”

His brother looks somewhat tired at this, but smiles all the same. “She is well, but so demanding. She wants one thing or another. I never knew a woman could be so demanding.”

Ned laughs. “And in what sense is she demanding Ben?”

His brother groans then. “She wants one thing or another, and is never satisfied whenever the thing is there for her to try or use. It’s almost as if she thinks we have an unlimited budget, just because I am a Stark. Perhaps I should learn to say no. But then she will merely go to her father. And he never refuses her anything.”

Ned looks at his brother, an amused look on his face. “Have you spoken to her father? I am sure Lord Cerwyn would be more than happy to explain the realities of the world to his daughter.”

His brother shakes his head then. “I have not. I think the man has merely accepted his daughter for what she is. And as such I do not know whether the man has the urge to fight with her anymore.”

Ned looks at his brother surprised. “What do you mean?”

His brother looks at him as if he was grown a second head. “Come on Ned, don’t tell me you missed it?” Ned looks at Ben confused. His brother sighs. “Lord Cerwyn is dying Ned. That was why he was so agreeable to whatever you said. He has some sort of disease, and as such is trying to leave as favourable an impression on you as he can. Ever since his wife died alongside his son, he has known that a Stark would rule Cerwyn, and as such he is trying to make sure you do not make it so that when he is gone, I am named as de facto lord.”

Ned looks at his brother shocked. “I would never do such a thing! Your wife would be the rightful ruler in that instance, and whilst you might rule in her name, she would still be the rightful lady.”

“And yet our children would bear the name Stark. I am surprised Cerwyn did not ask you about it today. He seemed determined to bring it up, when I was arguing with him a few days ago.” Benjen responds.

Ned sighs then. “Well he did not bring it up, I expect the announcement of the canal quite shocked him. But that is true, by rights of marriage the children would bear the name Stark, it is by far the more prestigious name, and as such makes sense for your children and house to be House Stark of Cerwyn. Furthermore, with the canal and the benefits that will come from it, well, ah.”

Benjen looks at him and says. “Medgar I do not think would like that. He is proud of his family, and whilst his daughter might be verging on a simpleton, she is still his daughter, and as such, I think he wants more for her than to simply be a brood mare.”

Ned laughs then, and in response to his brother’s questioning look replies. “You sounded so much like Brandon in that instant, it was quite funny.” he pauses then, after a moment goes on. “But tell me you do not see her as just a brood mare Ben?”

His brother shrugs his shoulders then. “I…I do not know, we have been married for just over two moons now, her womb has not yet quickened with child, but I do not know. She is a nice girl, but there are times when I wonder what happened to her as a child.”

“What do you mean?” Ned asks concerned.

His brother looks at him a moment and then says. “I…I do not know how to explain it, but it seems as if there are times when she is not an adult, but more a child. As if she never grew out of being given everything whenever and by whoever, it can be quite frustrating.”

“So like Lyanna then?” Ned jokes.

His brother glowers at him and then his shoulders slump. “Yes.”

“Well never fear brother, for I intend for you to go to the Iron Islands.” Ned responds.

“The Iron Islands? Whatever for?” Benjen asks.

“I want you to go and speak with Lord Harlaw and some of the more reasonable Ironborn lords about creating a trade alliance. We must keep our options open, and with the Lannisters growing in power, we can never be too careful. It is time we opened talks with one potential ally.” Ned says.

* * *

 

**12 th Month of 285 A.C. Lys**

**Queen Lyanna Targaryen**

Lys, the cell she had chosen, or rather the cell Rhaegar had chosen for them. She had not had a say in it, just as she had not had a say in fleeing to Dorne. There was much and more about her time with Rhaegar that she had begun questioning. She had been enamoured with him at Harrenhal, after spending time with Robert, Rhaegar had felt like a breath of fresh air, she could speak to him about books, music and poetry and he would listen and speak with her as if she were his equal not beneath him. And then they had fled, run away with one another, and the war had begun, and she had felt torn and horrible, even now she felt bad for all that had happened, for all Ned had had to go through, and yet Rhaegar did not seem to care. They barely spoke anymore, but they did care about their son, about little Jon and she treasured him.

That did not mean that she did not care for her husband or even love him, and she listened as he spoke now, his head in her lap. “I do not know what to do. We know from our sources that Oberyn is looking for her, and Arthur so far has not been able to find any word or trace of her. It’s almost as if the spider and his friend are hiding her separately from Viserys and my mother.”

“Perhaps they are.” Lyanna suggests.

“But why would they do that?” Rhaegar asks. “It does not make sense, Varys was my ally at court for so long, though there were times when I wondered at his motives. For the most, he seemed to want only stability and seemed as though he was a true Targaryen loyalist. No, it must be his friend, or something else happened.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself Rhaegar, you will only worsen the worry. Arthur and Oswell will find her, they are two of the best knights within the known world and know how to track someone. Prince Oberyn might be looking for her, but he will not find her before those two. Two are always better than one.” Lyanna says.

Her husband looks at her then, pain in his eyes. “And what of Viserys and my mother? I do not know what to think about this. I feel as if I am letting them down. It’s almost as if there is something within me that is wanting to tear me apart. On the one hand there is my daughter, who I need to be by my side, and then there is my mother and brother, who I want here as well. But from what we know they are not in the same place. Why is that? What could’ve happened between them leaving Dragonstone and arriving at Pentos or Braavos? The very fact we have received conflicted reports as to where they are is proof enough of that.”

Lyanna runs her hands through her husband’s hair and whispers softly. “Worrying about it now is not going to do you any good my love. Surely, it would be better served thinking of other things, like what you wish to do when she does arrive here? And what about with Jon?”

“You mean Jaehaerys?” her husband asks. “What about it?”

“His name is Jon. And well, he has grown up surrounded by adults for most his short life, surely it would be good to discuss how we are going to make sure he does not react angrily to it.” Lyanna responds.

“He is the heir to the throne. The rightful heir to the throne, and as such he much have a Targaryen name. It will make his legitimacy more secure.” her husband says.

“He is also half Stark, and as such why would it not be okay for him to be called Jon? Who truly is going to go against him when we retake the throne? From what we know, Robert has done much and more to alienate the realm already, and Ned is moving along quite quickly with his plans. We are secure enough with our allies that they are not going to care what his name is.” Lyanna responds.

Her husband sits up then, and responds stubbornly. “He is a Targaryen by birth, he is my son and heir, and he shall bear a Targaryen name whether you approve or not. He can be known as Jon in the comfort of your mind and in private, but in open he shall be known as Jaehaerys.”

Lyanna looks at her husband then and groans. “Why? Why call him Jaehaerys and not something new and original such as Aemon? Why reuse an old name?”

“Because there was no King Aemon, there have been two King Jaehaerys’, one was one of the greatest kings to ever live, and the other was my grandsire and as such was the reason for this all happening.” Rhaegar responds.

“Yes because your grandsire truly was such a great man. He only reigned for two years, and in that time he did not do anything of significance. In fact it was your father who did anything of note. He repealed all his grandfather’s reforms, and put the realm into the hands of Tywin Lannister. Whilst the Aemons I know of, one was the Dragonknight and the greatest knight who ever lived and the other was a fierce dragon prince, who rode Vhagar. So forgive me if I do not want my son given a dragon name that has no positive connotations.” Lyanna snaps.

Her husband merely looks at her and says. “We are not discussing this issue any further, the boy shall be known as Jaehaerys. And furthermore, remind your brother next time you write to him that he must send some more information to us, the bare minimum as he seems to be implying is not enough.”

Her husband is standing completely now, and Lyanna has to bite back a sharp retort, instead she takes a breath and replies. “Of course.” Her husband nods and then walks out of the room, leaving Lyanna alone for a moment and then she sighs. Her husband and she have not been as in love as they were when they were in the tower, and she wonders at that, she wonders whether it was real or if it were merely a lie. Gods she hopes it was not. Trying to keep her thoughts from straying into a dark area, she herself stands, and walks to her son’s crib. She looks at her son, with his brown curls, and his chubby cheeks, and hopes that when he grows up, he will not have to hide who he is, that he will not have to hide anything. That he can fight and love in public. She thinks of her father then, and wonders what he was planning all those years ago, before her mother died. She does not remember her mother, but she knows her father was never the same after she died. She runs a finger across her son’s cheek, determined that her son will know nothing but love.

She moves from the crib and then opens the attached door, and calls out for her ladies in waiting, only one lady comes out, and she is the only lady she trusts in truth. Lyanne her childhood companion and someone who was  there with her at Harrenhal and came some time ago, she is not sure how Ned found her, but he did and he sent her, and for that Lyanna thinks she could love her brother all the more. “What is wrong Lya?” Lyanne asks. “You look stressed.”

Lyanne looks at her and replies. “That’s because I am. I do not know what I am doing. My husband seems to be pulling away from me, and my brothers are distant to me now, more so than they were when we were growing up. Sometimes I wonder why I did what I did, and other times I think I made the right decision, that I could never have been happy with Robert. And now, well now I know all I can do is make sure my son is safe and secure. But I do not know whether I am happy with that.”

Had she said that in front of anyone else she would’ve received all sorts of chastisements, but with Lyanne she can speak truthfully. Her friend is silent a moment and then responds. “I think that you are coming out of the dream and back into reality. There are times when we do something and everything is perfect for the first little while, and then things go back to reality, and we begin wondering whether or not things will ever be the same again.” her friend pauses a moment and then goes on. “Nothing will ever be the same again Lya, there is no point in wanting it to be the same, but you have been given a chance, and a gift. Your son is a gift, your husband is a gift, cherish them and they will cherish you. Do not worry if his grace does not seem to be completely filled with joy, he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. It is time for him to learn to share.”

Lyanna snorts. “He is a dragon, I do not think he knows how to share. I mean look what happened when he tried. The realm got torn asunder. But that was also my doing as well. I do not know Lyanne, am I a bad person? For taking what I wanted and not worrying about the consequences?”

Her friend shakes her head. “No, you were not a bad person, a careless one yes, but not a bad person. I do not think you could be a bad person. The deaths of the rebellion are not solely on you, in fact I do not think they are even on you. They are on those who fought and shed blood for the actions of a mad king. Never forget that, and never allow anyone to tell you differently. You are the Queen now, Lya, and you must be strong.”

Lyanna looks at her friend then and says in a very soft voice. “I do not know if I know how to be strong anymore. I wonder if I am too broken to fix.”

Her friend looks at her with her fierce gaze. “No, you are not broken Lya, so stop telling yourself that. You are not broken, nor have you ever been. You have no reason to be, you are alive and well as is your son and your husband. Remember that, and remember that there is always someone out there who could be suffering a lot more than you are. So you are not at home just now, you will be soon enough. Your brother is working hard to make sure of that, and you are not going to be stuck waiting.”

Lyanna looks at her friend then a small smile on her face. “When did you become so wise?”

Her friend laughs. “I’ve always been this wise Lya, you’ve just never thought to ask me about it.”

Lyanna smiles sadly at her friend then and takes her hand. “No, I never did, did I? And for that I truly apologise, it was not right nor fair of me. I should have asked more for you and about you. Instead of merely taking you for granted. Can you forgive me?”

Her friend smiles. “There is nothing to forgive my lady. We are here together now, and we can work together.”

Before Lyanna can respond, there is a knock on the door, and Lyanna calls for whoever it is to enter, and when she finds herself looking at Ser Jaime she looks at him inquisitively. “King Rhaegar requests your presence my queen.”

Lyanna looks at Lyanne, and releases their hands, stands and then follows Ser Jaime to the hallway of the house, where she finds Rhaegar holding a girl with dark black hair and brown skin in his arms. There is a deep smile on her husband’s face. Her husband looks at her and smiles. “Lyanna, meet Rhaenys, my daughter.”


	8. Marching Queens

**2 nd Month of 286 A.C Harlaw**

**Lord Benjen Stark**

He was going to be Lord of Cerwyn, Jonella had sent word to him before he had left, her father was ailing, was soon to be dying. That mean that he would need to take on the responsibilities for the construction of the canal, and he was not sure what to make of that or anything else for that matter. Everything had been happening so quickly, so very quickly, gods it was strange to think that one moment he had been considering going off to the wall and now here he was about to become the Lord of Cerwyn and being trusted on going on a mission to Harlaw. He felt honoured that Ned felt secure enough to trust him with something such as this, truly he did. And if he was being honest, he felt as if he was ready for it, he wanted to see if he could be a good talker, and a help for Ned, in their quest to gain revenge against Baratheon. Truly he hoped that there could be some chance of gaining more aid, he hoped as such, and therefore was somewhat nervous as he looks at Lord Harlaw who sits before him assessing him with intrigued eyes.

“My Lord of Harlaw, I thank you for agreeing to meet with me, I know that this might appear somewhat sudden, but I promise you it will be worth your while in the long term. The offer my brother, Lord Eddard has for you is one that I think you will approve of.” Benjen begins.

Lord Harlaw, a serious man looks at him intrigued. “And what makes you say that. I have had a look at this offer your brother sent with you, and there are things there that are certainly interesting, but what I want to know is why has he gone for me and not Balon?”

Benjen hesitates a moment, unsure of how to answer that question, after all Harlaw is brothers by marriage with the Lord of Pyke. He takes a moment and then responds. “You are known for being a reasonable man, you are known for wanting to further relations with the mainland. My brother, Lord Eddard feels that you would make for a good partner in these endeavours.”

Harlaw laughs then. “And he has heard of Balon’s supposed beliefs is that what this is? I am surprised though, such a thing one would think was not in his interests, considering the loyalties your brother has.”

Benjen hesitates then. “Loyalties?” he asks.

The man’s eyes narrow. “To King Robert. Your brother won Baratheon the throne, it would not make sense for him to go seeking allies within the islands, for we did not provoke any hostilities during the war, and yet there might be another reason for this.” the man pauses then and then after a moment asks. “Is your brother thinking of replacing Greyjoy with Harlaw?”

Benjen almost breathes an audible sigh of relief that Harlaw went with that tact, and not what he thought he was going to say. “What makes you think that that is the course my brother is thinking of approaching?”

Harlaw looks at him then, his gaze somewhat sharp. “We are the most powerful house within the islands. Far more powerful than House Greyjoy, and we command the most powerful houses within the islands. For many years the Greyjoys had to pay off my forebearers to prevent them from rebelling, and then the marriage between Balon and my sister ensured my father’s and my loyalties. But, Balon has not shown sense in the years he has been in power.”

“What decisions has Balon Greyjoy been making that you do not agree with my lord?” Benjen asks, surprised at himself for the boldness with which he asks the question. “If you do not mind telling me of course.” he hastens to add.

Harlaw laughs then. “I do not mind. Greyjoy knows of my discomfort with what he is planning. The building of a war fleet, when the time for war has passed. The dispatching of septons and septas from the isles. The slaughtering of maesters as well, he is trying to throw us into an age of dark. Something his father tried so hard to prevent. It seems as though he is growing more and more rash as the methods are met with approval.”

“You are worried that he might bring ruin to the islands?” Benjen asks.

Harlaw laughs. “I know he will bring ruin to the islands. Quellon Greyjoy was a great man, but he failed to raise his sons to be anything but mad men or puppets for others. Balon is a fool who believes the old age was the best, and in his desire to seek them once more he shall throw us into darkness. Euron is mad, has always been mad, but there is some sense within him. Victarion is but a soldier he does not do anything Balon does not tell him to do. Aeron is a drunkard. But there is some hope within him. I do not know where the brothers will take the islands, but wherever they go, I do not think it will be good.”

Benjen considers this then. “And is that why you agreed to meet with me? Are you hoping that my brother is going to offer you some freedom from that burden?”

“If you can call watching the islands tear themselves in two a burden then yes, I am willing to listen to what your brother has to say. So tell me, what are the finer points of this offer?” Harlaw asks.

Benjen looks at the man and then asks. “Define what you mean by finer points.”

Harlaw smirks then. “I know all about the part of the profit that I could get through the trade through the canal, and the better rates for the goods we would be selling. What I want to know is what the cut is that your brother will be taking, and what he plans on doing about other islands lords.”

Benjen thinks over this then, straining his memory to think over what Ned had said to him and how it had been explained. Eventually he responds. “As you know my brother has promised you some four percent of the profit from the overall profits from the venture. He knows just how valuable you are to this business succeeding. As to the cut he takes from the island trade, it will be around six percent of overall profits. As to the other island lords if you would mind elaborating.”

Harlaw looks at him, his expression serious. “Drumm, Goodbrother, Botley are they being included in this dealing? Or are they remaining silent, and if so, how does your brother expect to keep them quiet?”

Benjen considers the question and then responds. “Drumm has not been considered, for they are too close to Greyjoy, as for Botley, they are not the main concern of the islands, surely you can see that as well. As for Goodbrother, well they are a powerful house, and yet there are so many members of that family, that we were hoping you knew of the ways to divide them.”

Benjen gives Harlaw his best smile, and the man laughs then. “Ah, I see, so there is one more role you wish for me to play in this little game of ours then. And what is it that I would gain from doing this?”

At this Benjen hesitates. “We would of course give you preferential treatment regarding the payment of fee, and the usage of the canal. Furthermore, we would not prohibit the shipping of other materials into the trade area.” he leaves the implied suggestions there, unsaid, and he sees from how Harlaw responds that the man has caught on to his meaning.

“Very interesting, and if I were to ask for a raise in the profit I received?” Harlaw asks.

At this, Benjen hesitates, unsure of how to respond. He tries to hide his uncertainty, and he is not sure how successful he is at doing this considering Harlaw’s own expression is unreadable. Eventually, he replies. “I believe that I would need to speak to my brother on that matter. But should things look good from the initial point of trade, I do not think he would object.”

Harlaw laughs then. “Another way of saying you do not know, or are saying no politely then?”

Benjen looks at him uncertain of what he means. “I am merely giving you my thoughts on the matter my lord. I cannot speak for my brother, therefore I try not to do so.”

Harlaw looks mildly impressed then. “Very well, so we have discussed the treaty, or rather the finer points of it. Now let us discuss the actual thing itself. I believe all is in order, yet there is one thing that I am not sure on.”

Benjen looks at the man and asks. “This thing would not happen to be the requirement that a note of homage be given for access?”

Harlaw nods. “Indeed it would. The note of homage, is it necessary, and if so, who am I giving homage to? To Winterfell, to the iron throne, to someone in Lys?”

Benjen stiffens slightly at that last part, he tries to hide his nervousness then. He is not sure if he is successful at doing so, and yet when he looks at the man he finds that the man is staring at the paper before them not him. Benjen swallows nervously and then responds. “To the throne, and in thanks to Winterfell for use of the canal, that is what Lord Eddard means I think.”

Harlaw is looking at the paper and responds. “Well he has made it very vague as to what he means here. That could mean anything, do homage.”

 _Dammit Ned, why did you have to leave it so vague, now he’s going to start asking questions._ Benjen internally laments, schooling his face into a mask, he turns his attention to Lord Harlaw and says. “It could do, and yet for that you must forgive my brother, my lord. I am sure that he merely assumed you would know he meant to the throne. If you were to take that as its meaning then I am sure that there should be no qualms.”

Harlaw nods then. “Very well, I have just one more question.”

“And what is that question my lord?” Benjen asks.

“What provisions has Stark made for all of this should Balon begin to act out. My Goodbrother is not known for his common sense, indeed some could argue that he was not born with it. He might seek to attack the canal, how is Lord Stark planning to protect it.” Harlaw asks.

Benjen considers this, he thinks through all that his brother had told him, considers it down to the last, and then says. “There will be a fleet of ships protecting the canal at all times. My brother is investing in the ships, and has commissioned them to be built, on both the eastern and western shores of the north, and especially near the canal itself. That is why in the agreement it states you will be given a banner to fly alongside your own when coming to trade.”

Harlaw considers this. “That sounds reasonable.”

Benjen breathes a sigh of relief then, looking at Lord Harlaw he asks. “So you are willing to sign the agreement? You have no further questions?”

“Just the one.” Harlaw responds. “You are married yes?”

“I am my lord.” Benjen responds cautiously.

“How would you feel about a betrothal between your firstborn child and my grandchild?” Harlaw asks.

“I would need to speak with my wife.” Benjen responds.

“Very well, then I am happy to sign this agreement.” Harlaw says, he puts his quill to the paper and signs it, and then Benjen signs it. They shake hands, and Benjen feels a deep sense of relief.

* * *

 

**5 th Month of 286 A.C. Lys**

**King Rhaegar I Targaryen**

It was grating, this waiting, the constant waiting, not knowing whether or not he would succeed. He had never truly been good at waiting, and it was beginning to fray his nerves. He did not know what had taken them so long, where in the name of the seven could his mother, Viserys and the little girl who was his sister have gotten to? That his men had found Rhaenys had been a relief and he’d found himself greatly calmed by that, but now there was the other worry, how had they been able to find his daughter but not his mother or siblings? Gods, he was not good at this, he had never been good at this. Not for the first time he found himself wondering if he had made a terrible mistake all those years ago, and then he shook his head. He could not think like that, there would be no hope for him and her if he thought like that.

Lyanna, gods, that was another thing he was not sure how to handle. With Elia, well he had been a very bad husband to Elia, he could see that now. He had barely spoken to her in the first few months, only when he needed children had he come to see her, and gods, he felt awful about that. And yet Elia was dead now, along with Aegon, only Rhaenys was left of her, and he found himself clinging to her all the more because of that. Things with Lyanna had been strained, he did not know how to approach things, they had agreed somewhat to cool things off for the time being, but gods he did not know why it had to be so hard. What they had had in the beginning had been so good, where had it gone wrong? He refused to believe it had gone wrong, that was why he was here now, looking at his wife holding their son, Jaehaerys, or Jon as Lyanna called him, he was three years old, walking and talking, he was sweet, such a sweet child, and Rhaenys was listening to her talk. He coughs slightly, and his wife falls silent.

He looks at his wife and asks. “Might I speak with you Lyanna?”

His wife puts down their son, and his son totters over to the books stacked against the walls. “What do you want to speak about?” she asks.

“In private, away from the children.” Rhaegar says.

His wife looks at him for a long time then, and then says. “Very well.” she stands and walks with him turning briefly to say to the children. “I shall be back shortly, I just need to speak with your father. Rhaenys keep an eye on your brother.” His daughter nods, and Lyanna takes his offered arm and walks with him out of the room, Ser Jaime remains guard outside the room where the children are.

Rhaegar feels his heart begin to quickening then. He takes a deep breath as they enter their own chambers, and as his wife sits down on the bed, he looks at her and says. “I am sorry Lyanna.”

His wife looks surprised then. “Sorry? Whatever for?”

Rhaegar sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I am sorry for the way I have acted toward you these past few moons. It was not right of me, and I know I was wrong to behave as such.”

His wife considers this then and asks. “What made you come to this realisation?”

Rhaegar runs a hand through his hair once more and responds. “Elia.” he hesitates when he sees Lyanna’s reaction, but knowing he has to go on for it to make sense, he does. “I treated her like dirt, I see that now. And my marriage suffered for it. I do not want the same thing to happen here. Lyanna, I….” he pauses then unsure of how to continue, and struggling to find the right words, looks at his wife, and sees the things he found so beautiful in her before. “I love you. Truly I do, and I know it might not always seem like it, but I do, and I do not want to push you away. Not like I did with Elia.”

His wife looks at him then and asks. “And what about our son. Is he Jon or is he Jaehaerys, what is he?”

Rhaegar swallows then. “I… I think he should be called Jon in private and Jaehaerys in public. He is our son, but he must represent the dynasty as much as he does us. Can you see where I am coming from?”

He braces himself for her rebuttal, but is instead surprised when she says. “I quite agree. I think he should be named Jaehaerys in public, when he is named Prince of Dragonstone he should be named as Prince Jaehaerys. It is important after all that our supporters see him as a prince of the blood, they will not if he is called Jon.”

He looks at her surprised. “I…I know. I am surprised. What brought this change?”

His wife stands then, and walks toward him her hand resting on his cheek. “I have no wish to continue arguing with you Rhaegar. And I am not such a child anymore that I cannot see the benefits of him bearing a Targaryen name. I wish for him to know his heritage, both sides of it. What better way for him to have that then his two names.” His wife pauses then and then whispers. “After all the Conqueror had two names, you, yourself told me that.”

Rhaegar laughs softly. “Is that what our son is now then? The conqueror come again?”

“Well, his father most certainly is.” his wife responds leaning up to kiss him.

He kisses her back, and soon they are deepening the kiss, but before he can fully enjoy the feeling of her against him, there is a knock on the door, and they pull apart. He looks round to see Ser Arthur there. “What is it?” he asks.

The Sword of the Morning looks at him and then at Lyanna, and then quickly says. “There has been word from Oswell, it would appear that there has been some problem finding the Queen Dowager and her children.”

“Yes I know that. That’s why I sent him out to find out what the problem was.” Rhaegar snaps, Lyanna takes hold of his hand then and squeezes.

“No, you misunderstand me Your Grace. Oswell has found out the main reason for this problem.” Ser Arthur responds. “It seems that there is someone else who is interested in them.”

“Who? Who else is interested in them?” Rhaegar asks though he has a vague idea who might be.

The knight pauses then, looking as if he were about to deliver some severely bad news. “First, I must offer my condolences Your Grace. The word we received of your mother, Queen Rhaella’s survival was incorrect, she died long ago, but her handmaidens and half-sisters saw to it that Prince Viserys and your sister Princess Daenerys were safe and secure in Braavos until Ser Willam died, following that, well they disappeared.”

Rhaegar feels as if he has been hit by a rock, his mother dead? No that can’t be right, Lyanna is there by his side now looking up at him concerned. He looks at Arthur and asks. “And? What more is there?”

“Oswell managed after great effort to find where the trail of the Prince and Princess and their helpers went cold. It went cold near Norvos, and it seems from there, there have been several near sightings of them, and some close calls.” Arthur says.

“Close calls? What do you mean?” Rhaegar asks, his grip on Lyanna’s hand tightening.

“The usurper has been sending his own men after them. Using the same hints that we have been to try and find them. And yet slowly but surely they have been missed. I think there is more to it than the usurper might think, or even Oswell thinks. I think the Dornish are getting involved.” Arthur says.

“Why would they get involved with Prince Viserys?” Lyanna asks.

“Because they could not find Rhaenys, and I know Oberyn, he will not stop until he has gotten revenge for Elia.” Rhaegar responds.

“Then why not send word to him and ask for his assistance?” Lyanna asks.

Rhaegar looks at his wife and responds. “Because, Oberyn would more than likely want to have me killed rather than aid me. And furthermore, because Doran is too cautious and clever to truly trust. No, we must wait and see what they do.” he looks at Arthur, and then says. “But judging by your expression that is not the only thing you have.”

Arthur looks at him with a sad expression on his face. “Oswell had some troubling news. It seems that the Cheesemonger Illyrio Mopatis has begun making moves to speak with the rulers of Norvos. Something about expanding their peace agreement.”

Rhaegar curses then, and his wife looks at him and asks. “What is bad about that?”

“It means that they won’t be looking to wage war through trade. And it might well mean relations with the Iron Throne are better than we thought. Gods dammit.” Rhaegar responds.

Arthur nods. Rhaegar looks at him and asks. “When did Oswell say he’d be able to return?”

“Within the month my king.” Arthur responds.

Rhaegar looks at his friend and says. “Very well, you may go for the night.” his friend nods and then leaves, once his friend is gone, Rhaegar settles down on the bed with his wife and says. “Gods, this has just gotten so much more complicated.”

His wife is sitting in his lap now, and her weight feels like a good one. “Did you think it would be any easier?”

He laughs then. “No, I did not. I just did not think the cheesemonger would capitulate as soon as he did. Usually the man and his ilk remain stubborn until the last. That is what my father always used to say.” he grimaces as the mention of his father and then sighs as he feels his wife’s arms wrap around him.

“Well, I know Ned will be doing his best to make thing easier. He managed to get the trade agreement with the Harlaws and their allies. And soon enough there will be word from Jon, I am sure.” his wife responds.

Rhaegar groans then. “Gods, I had forgotten about him. No doubt the man is going to try something or the other. He has not yet forgiven me for the last time we spoke.”

His wife kisses him then and the pulls back to look at him. “I am sure he will, after all, who could refuse you? I surely couldn’t. And I think Jon is half in love with you.”

Rhaegar looks at his wife surprised then. “What makes you say that my love?”

Lyanna laughs. “It is obvious, anyone with a brain could see it from the way he looks at you.”

Rhaegar looks at her then and laughs with her. “I always thought there was something about the way he spoke to me, that was a bit odd. But then that raises the question, what do I do about it?”

His wife is straddling him now, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to think, as she grinds herself against him she groans as does he. Breathily she murmurs. “Do you think it will cause an issue?”

“I…I... do not know.” he responds somewhat stiltedly

“Then wait and see what happens.” his wife replies, and then conversation stops as their love reunites itself, through fire and heat.

Somewhere in the back of his mind though, Rhaegar remembers the desperation in Jon’s voice, and he begins wondering if he can use that for his family’s gain. He cannot allow there to be any weaknesses, not now. Not with things getting more complicated. 


	9. Only Good Comes Bad

**9 th Month of 286 A.C. Sunspear**

**Prince Oberyn Martell**

It irked him that he had not managed to get to Rhaenys, not before she had disappeared, how she had disappeared he did not know, but he had scoured high and low throughout Essos and even some of the more shadier places in Westeros to find her, and he had found nothing. He was worried, for he knew that Prince Viserys and Queen Rhaella were still out there somewhere as well, but from what he could gather they were not together, and that, that was the greatest cause for concern he had. Where was Elia’s little girl? And why was she not with her family? Either side of them. For whilst, Oberyn might despise Rhaegar for a coward and a craven, he did not want his niece growing up without a loving family, and that was something he knew might well happen if she were on the road.

Doran, however, seemed unperturbed by all of this, indeed he seemed slightly tired. “She will be fine, wherever she is, she will be fine. None would be so foolish as to sell her off to the usurper, not after his comments about the Essosi were made. Now they will merely think he is a fool who is wearing a crown. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Oberyn asks. “The Essosi are not like us Doran, they can remember things, Rhaegar was the one who spited them long ago, or was it Aerys? Either way it makes no matter, save to say the insult that the Targaryens dealt them is older than the one Robert Baratheon has given them. They have long memories, so long as Rhaenys is missing she is in danger.”

“I cannot allow you to go gallivanting across Essos though brother. The more you disappear the more the spider in King’s Landing gets suspicious, and he will whisper to that idiot sitting on the throne. The more suspicion you draw to yourself, the more chance there is of someone trying to do something smart here. You think the Yronwoods are not looking at all of this with glee? They most certainly are.” Doran responds calmly.

“Do you think I give a damn about the Yronwoods?” Oberyn asks dismissively. “They are nothing but beggars, nothing but what you allow them to be. They have not power in Dorne anymore, nothing that is real. Allow me to go and look for our niece, it is the least I can do.”

“The least you can do for who? Me? Yourself? Elia? I do not think you are doing this for Rhaenys, the girl is a child, she will not know who you are. Jaime Lannister has gone, disappeared from court, he must be with her.” Doran responds.

“All the more reason for me to go and find her then. Surely you do not think Rhaenys will be safe under Lannister protection? It was the damned Lannisters who had her brother and Elia killed. She will be in more damned danger if she is with Jaime Lannister, because of who the man’s father is. Tywin Lannister has not stopped looking for his son even though he is married again and has another child. He will not rest until he finds the boy.” Oberyn says.

“And he will look to you, to see where to look next. Come now Oberyn, think clearly now. If you got charging off, looking for Rhaenys, you are drawing attention to the fact that you think she is alive and well. That not only brings the Usurper’s knifes into this, it also brings Tywin Lannister into it. And that man is more dangerous than anyone else right now. We must keep low, to make sure that in time people forget about us.” Doran responds.

“Knowing that Rhaenys could be out there somewhere? Alone and afraid?” Oberyn responds.

Before his brother can respond, there is a knock on the door, and when the door opens a servant scurries in handing Doran a sealed letter, Oberyn watches as his brother reads the scroll and then goes quite pale. “What is it? What does that scroll say?” Oberyn asks.

“It would seem that Ser Willam Darry, the man who accompanied the Targaryens out of Dragonstone is dead. Our men found his body in Braavos a fortnight ago. There are no signs of the Targaryens.” Doran responds, his voice shaking slightly.

Oberyn feels his heart begin to beat rapidly. “Now you have to let me go. They are going to be alone out there, without any sort of support. How can we claim to be their leal supporters if we do nothing?”

Oberyn can tell from the way his brother’s shoulders seem to slump that he has won this argument, for now. His brother looks at him and responds. “You might go, yes. But remember do not do anything that would draw attention back to Sunspear. And make sure you do not go by the way of the serpent, I do not want to have to be holding another funeral for another sibling.”

Oberyn bows. “Of course, I shall be as quiet as a mouse when it comes to it.”

He turns to leave then, but before he can, his brother stops him. “And I want you home before the year ends.”

“That is nowhere near enough time to do this properly.” Oberyn protests.

“I want you home before the year ends Oberyn. We do not have time to fool around.” Doran says.

“This is not fooling around, this is looking for our niece gods dammit.” Oberyn snarls.

“I know what it is Oberyn, and I know that you need to be back before the year ends.” Doran responds stubbornly.

“Why?” Oberyn demands.

“Because, I shall need a commander for my armies when the time comes. I have had enough of sitting down and doing nothing. The usurper sits unsteadily on his throne, you have three moons to find the rightful king and bring him back to Westeros, and otherwise, I shall take care of things myself.” Doran says forcefully, leaving Oberyn feeling quite stunned.

* * *

 

**12 th Month of 286 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Jon Arryn**

Things were not going well, they had won the rebellion, but the ghosts of the past were still there haunting their every footstep. Robert was slowly turning into a thing that Jon did not recognise and was not proud of saying he knew. His former ward was now the king, but there seemed to be not a lick of happiness in him, nothing that seemed to fill him with joy. Gods, there was nothing that even filled Jon with joy, not anymore. He was slowly ageing and turning into what his father had been, something he had sworn he would not be. It was becoming more and more frustrating as the days turned into weeks and turned into moons and then into years. He did not know what to think or what to say, still he sat at the head of the council and listened and counselled.

“It has been some time since we last met my lords. And there is much and more that must needs be discussed. I would hear what has to be said, so we might reach an amicable conclusion.” Jon says.

There is a silence and then Pycelle asks. “Will His Grace, the King not be joining us?”

Jon looks at the old man-gods he is old himself- and merely responds. “No, he has not deigned to join us. Now, what word is there from around the kingdoms?”

At this Pycelle speaks once more. “Well, I can confirm that Lord Eddard Stark has finally agreed to pay the taxation due on the canal he is building. And though he continues to insist that the taxation is unlawful considering the agreement he reached with the king, he will pay the small amount that was asked.”

Jon breathes a sigh of relief. “That is good, it solves one major problem. Has Lord Stark written in response to the other query that was made of him?”

Pycelle shakes his head. “It seems to have slipped his attention my lord hand. There is not a mention of it anywhere within his letter.”

Jon sighs, he wonders how things became so bad between them, him and Ned, and Ned and Robert. The damned Lannisters, they are at the heart of all of this, and yet Jon is not foolish enough to believe that they could function without them here at court. Robert has not really been interested in the rulings of the kingdoms for some time. “What word from Pyke? Has Balon answered the queries as to why he was building those longships?”

Once more Pycelle speaks. “He has my lord hand. It seems he was building them in preparation of campaign into Essos, he wishes to make more money that way to be able to cover the costs of building said ships.”

Jon does not believe that for an instant and looks over at Varys asking. “How likely is that story to be true my lord Varys?”

The eunuch is silent for a moment, considering his answer, when he responds. “Not very likely at all my lord hand. More than likely Balon Greyjoy is plotting something or the other, and it is going to be quite sinister.”

Jon Arryn sighs. “Why is that when the Ironborn lose a man  such as Quellon Greyjoy, they are replaced by a man such as Balon? They are never going to learn that their way is dead, and has been dead since the conquest. I suppose we shall merely have to show them why their way is dead.” Jon looks at the king’s brother Stannis and says. “I want the royal fleet prepared and ready to depart at a moment’s notice. I also want letters sent to the Arbor as well as to Casterly Rock, should Greyjoy try anything we shall crush him.”

“It shall be done my lord hand.” Stannis responds.

Jon nods and then turns his attention back to the eunuch. “What word has there been on the Targaryens?”

“Ser Willam Darry is dead. His body was found in Braavos quite recently but there was no sign of the Targaryens. It seems they might well have left for the further east.” Varys responds.

“Further east? What is there for them further east, but desert sands and waste?” Jon asks.

“Norvos my lord hand. A place that has good ties with Dorne, the Martells specifically. And furthermore, it is a place that has taken quite a grave offence to King Robert’s latest blunders. They are not likely to give them up to the crown if asked.” Varys responds.

Jon sighs then, Robert, Robert and his drink, Robert and his damned desire to see people laugh at his jokes when drunk, jokes that more often than not ended with someone being offended and Robert left angry. How did it go so wrong? He looks at the eunuch and asks. “And what exactly might they do should the exiles end up there?”

“Welcome them with open arms, treat with them, speak with them and make sure they are well seen to. Norvos might not be the most powerful of the free cities, but it does have some powerful allies. And they are gathering at this moment in time. They are preparing for something.” the eunuch responds.

Jon does not like how ominous that sounds. “Do you know what it is they are planning for?”

“The same thing that some lords here are planning for.” the eunuch responds.

“And that is?” Jon asks, fear and impatience mingling together.

“They are preparing for the return of the dragon, and I do believe they are preparing to make it something that will make all of Westeros and the known world stand on end. There is something serious being planned, and I am not sure whether we have the power to prevent it from coming into being.” the eunuch responds.

“And why do you say that?” Jon asks.

“Because there are plotters everywhere, and it is hard to kill one before another one springs up to replace them. We are in fact surrounded my lord hand.” Varys responds.


	10. Good Men

**2 nd Month of 287 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

Work on the canal was going well, it seemed the thing would be complete sooner than Ned had thought, and already they were experiencing the benefits of having it being built. Trade envoys had come from the free cities, and more and more representatives were coming from the south. The south, Ned did not know what to make of that, Robert and Jon Arryn were desperate for him to answer their pleas for assistance in dealing with some issue or the other, and if he was being honest with himself, he did not think he really wanted to assist them, there was still a lot of anger within him at their actions, and he just wanted to ignore the south, but he could not. He knew he could not and that was why he had called a meeting with his lords, he wanted to make them aware of the new order.  Looking around the solar, he notes how many of them look expectant and how many of them seem nervous, there had been some murmuring beforehand, he knows, but that seems to have died down now, thankfully.

He clears his throat and begins. “Thank you all for coming. I know that this might appear a sudden decision, calling you all here, but there is reason for it. As you all know, the north has been undergoing some vast improvements as of late, as decisions that should have been made many years ago are now being made. For this improvement to continue and be sustained, we must discuss how it shall be balanced.” He pauses a moment and then looks at Lord Wyman. “Wyman, I believe you have some figures you’d like to mention.”

The Lord of White Harbour nods. “Thank you my lord. Yes, as we all know the north is seeing an increase in commerce and activity relating to commerce, and as such, I propose we modify the laws that Jaehaerys the Wise instituted regarding such things. We are currently paying around ten percent of all profit to the Iron Throne, and considering the rather frosty relationship between the north and the throne at moment I suggest we reduce that down to around eight percent. We can do this by one simple measure, we keep some funds back, and send blank payments to them.”

Ned feels slightly uncomfortable at this, he does not like holding back money or making blank payments but he suspects that such things will become necessary as time moves on. “And what exactly do you mean by blank payment Wyman?”

The Lord of White Harbour smiles then and says. “We send some money, old money, I know the man who serves as Baratheon’s master of coin, and he is not a sound collector. And regardless, the money collectors here are under my sway. One word and they will look the other way.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Ned asks. “And what do the rest of you make of this?”

Jon Umber, Lord of Last Hearth speaks then. “I think it is a damnably good option. I say anything that lessens our ties to the throne is a good thing. The dragons are gone, there is no need for us to kowtow to the stag.”

Lord Karstark voices his agreement. “Aye, I think this is a swell plan. The less we need to give over in coin, the less need these fools will have to come looking at us.”

Lord Bolton however, speaks reason. “And what of the oath we swore to Robert Baratheon? Does that not refer to making full payment to the throne as well?”

Ned looks at the man a moment and then says. “I do not think that will be too much of an issue. Robert is already considering moving against the Stepstones, he will look toward raising men soon enough. He and Jon Arryn will not look toward the collection of coin.” He looks at Wyman then and asks. “How certain are you that the man in King’s Landing is yours Wyman?”

The Lord of White Harbour laughs then. “Oh I am very sure my lord. The man is most definitely mine, and he will not mention this if I tell him not to.”

Swallowing, Ned takes a deep breath and then decides. “Very well, it is sorted. We shall do as Wyman suggests. If anyone has issues with this, voice them now.” He waits a moment and when none say anything he looks toward Benjen. “Now Lord Stark, what word do you have for us from across the sea?”

Benjen looks at him a moment and then says. “Lord Harlaw and his allies are preparing to make their move against Balon Greyjoy. They just need a little bit more time and then they shall be ready to move.”

“And you are certain they mean to remain true to the terms by which they agreed?” Ned asks.

“Aye my lord, I am.” Benjen responds. “I do not think they will think about turning back now, they are too far gone for that.”

“Very well.” Ned says. Turning to look at Jorah Mormont he says. “What word have your own scouts brought back Jorah?”

The gruff bear of a man looks at him a moment before responding. “They report the same as Lord Benjen has my lord. It seems the Ironborn are preparing for their own events, and as such are looking for that final push over the edge.”

At this point Galbert Glover speaks. “Are we sure we can trust them, these Ironborn? They might be led by a nephew of Quellon Greyjoy, but Quellon’s own son is mad, we can all agree on that. How do we know that this is not a trick?”

Ned looks at Benjen then, and his brother says. “Because they have sworn by the most holy of orders that they will not break this promise.”

“And what promise is that?” Lord Umber asks.

Taking a deep breath, Ned looks at the lords gathered in his solar and says. “The promise of the dragon.”

* * *

 

**5 th Month of 287 A.C. Goldengrove**

**Lord Mathis Rowan**

It had been four years since the rebellion had ended, four years since he had bent the knee to the usurper. By the gods it was a long time, and every day he got up knowing his father was probably turning in his grave wherever he was. Bending the knee to the Baratheons had been something he had regretted almost from the moment he had done it, and the fact that Baratheon seemed to be little more than a puppet, well that was just adding salt to the wound. Mathis was angry, he was angry with himself for bending, to Mace Tyrell for refusing to fight on, and for capitulating so easily. Mathis wanted revenge, and he had found likeminded lords in the Lords Florent, Osgrey, Appleton, Fossoway and many others, Mathis had hope, they had had word from their king and soon enough the time would come. He looks at the lords gathered in his solar now and smiles.

“My lords, it has been an interesting year thus far. The Ironborn are preparing for something on a grand scale that we know. Mace Tyrell continues to flounder in his castle, unable to deal with the questions asked of him by the King. And furthermore, we have had word from our king. Though the rebellion has not begun, it is on its way.” Mathis says.

Lord Appleton speaks then. “If the king wrote to us, why then did he make it so difficult to ascertain what he means to do? I know he is a man of letters, but to make it so hard to understand? Surely that is not reasonable.”

Mathis sighs then, Appleton is many things, but clever is not one of them. “We do not know how the Spider knows things, we must remain careful, otherwise our king’s plans shall be foiled. You saw just how active the usurper became when he learned of Oberyn Martell’s departure from Sunspear. The king must make sure all is secure.”

“And how do we know that it was truly the king who sent the letter? It could well have been the spider. Its elusiveness is somewhat more revealing, than I think you’d like it to be my lord.” Lord Osgrey says.

Mathis looks at the man then and feels some old resentment beginning to stir. Osgrey is a cousin to Tywin Lannister, that lion who fought on the plains of battle many years ago, and there have been times when Osgrey family allegiance has come back to the days of the black dragon. “I am quite confident that this letter is a real thing. The king would not allow a forgery to be sent, nor would I be foolish enough to allow such a thing to be believed.”

“Are you entirely certain of that my lord?” Osgrey asks then, a slight mocking tone to his voice. “You desire that which was taken from you, and as such might well cling to something that is not there. Just like your lord father did.”

Rowan feels his anger grow then. “I will not tolerate being insulted by a subordinate Osgrey. Remember what happened to your own father, when he dared voice such a complaint to mine.”

Osgrey looks bemused then. “I do not regret what I said, I merely think we should consider the authenticity of this letter, and whether or not we can trust its contents.”

Mathis looks at the man, and feels the deep urge to hit him, hard. However, before he can do that Lord Florent speaks. “Enough of this. We are not here to trade insults with one another, we are here to make sure that the plans are all in order for when the king returns. I have had my own sources check the letter, and they confirm that it is authentic. This was writ in the king’s own hand. And as such, we can move on from this argument. Now, we must discuss fighting instructions. Highgarden is under pressure, the recent bad harvest has caused some to wonder what is going on. Tyrell is dithering, we can move now and act quickly.”

“And when will the king bring his own forces? Does he have his own forces to call to his side?” Appleton asks.

“Yes, he has raised men from the exiles into a fighting band, and he has begun training them. He has entered into negotiations with the Golden Company as well.” Florent says.

“Ah, that old thing. I would question its reliability. No doubt they will do this to come home and gather their old lands. Motives that do not entirely allow them to become partial to the king’s true cause.” Osgrey says. “Furthermore, how will he pay them?”

Mathis speaks then. “With the monies taken from those who were foolish enough to rebel against him in the first instance.”

“And will that be enough to soothe his consciousness?” Osgrey asks. “After all, these companies are known for rampaging through the land, even the company has its own limits.”

“The king will keep them under control. He knows how to.” Mathis says confidently

Florent speaks then. “So yes, now we have gotten that out of the way, what of the rest of us here. We shall need to prepare for when the king invades. We must give him enough space and leverage. I say we go for the throat.”

“You want to go straight for Highgarden? They will flock to the rose banner if we do that. We need to draw Tyrell out and make him make a mistake first.” Mathis counters.

Florent looks at him then and asks. “What do you suggest then?”

“Go for Horn Hill and Tarly. Remind him what it was Tyrell did at Ashford, and remind him what he lost. Remind him and Tyrell will fall and the end will come for him.” Mathis says.

Florent considers this then for a long moment, and then he says. “Very well, let us go with that.”


	11. This Is War

**8 th Month of 287 A.C. Lys**

**King Rhaegar I Targaryen**

Things were slowly getting better between himself and Lyanna, they were learning to talk to one another, something he had never learned how to do with Elia, and something he regretted not learning sooner. They were no longer acting like children in grown up bodies, but instead were acting like adults. It helped, he supposed that Jon and Rhaenys were there as well, they provided a link for the two of them, concerns for them that were not planning a war. Rhaegar still worried over where his mother and brother were, they had disappeared, Ser Willam Darry was dead, but the party he had sent out to find his family had come back empty handed, some had not even come back, and that worried him. He knew the war was coming, and that resources were tight, but dammit all he wanted to find his mother and brother.

As he looks at the men gathered in the room before him, he knows that some of them would rather see Viserys on the throne than him or Jaehaerys, but they are with him now because they have no choice. And so he takes a breath and says. “We all know why we are here, let us begin then. Jon how goes the preparation?”

Jon Connington, one of Rhaegar’s oldest friends, and the Lord of Griffin’s Roost nods his thanks. “Thank you Your Grace, the preparations are going well. The lords within the realm are preparing for the return of their rightful king, and the usurper sits unsteadily on his throne. With regards to the sellsword companies, The Golden Company is beginning to plan out a course from Volantis, and they intend to arrive in the Reach itself.”

Rhaegar nods. “And with regards to ascertaining payment for them? How does that go?”

Connington looks slightly nervous then, but his words go a long way toward reassuring Rhaegar. “It goes well, the Lyseni bankers that I spoke to seemed very willing to talk and negotiate loans and such. And with the treasury in King’s Landing still relatively full, we should have enough to repay the loans.”

“Your Grace, if I may?” Ser Arthur asks.

“Go on Ser.” Rhaegar says nodding encouragingly.

“The Golden Company were founded by a man dedicated to the Blackfyre cause, and as such continued to fight for the Blackfyres for many years. Even now thirty years after the last one died, they continue to hold true to the saying of their founder. How do we know they can be trusted?” Ser Arthur asks.

“An interesting question, and one I have pondered myself.” Rhaegar responds. “You see, I think that even with the Blackfyres dead, the golden company has not forgotten what it is. A sellsword company set up by exiles. And what do exiles traditionally want? Why they want to return home of course. That is why I think we can trust them to an extent. So long as they think we can take them home, they will fight for us.”

“And if it looks like we cannot get them home? They are sellswords after all Your Grace, how do we know that they will not abandon us at the first instance that they get.” Ser Arthur asks.

Rhaegar looks at the man, his best friend, his only true friend and sighs. “The company will not leave us Arthur. They cannot, their word of honour means they cannot leave, and as such if they do, well then they shall lose face.”

His friend seems to consider this and then merely nods. Jon Connington speaks then. “There has been word from the Reach, it seems that Mathis Rowan and his allies are preparing for an assault on Tarly lands. They merely need your confirmation for the plan to begin.”

Rhaegar considers this. “They are being very bold by going for Tarly. The man knows how to fight and to command. If anything this is quite risky. How certain are they of victory?”

Connington takes a moment to consider before responding. “They seem quite certain my king. It seems they are aware of growing dissatisfaction with Tyrell rule over the Reach and wish to change that. Florent in particular is desperate for a change.”

Rhaegar snorts then. “Of course he is, the man more than likely wants Highgarden and the Lord Paramountship as a reward. Of course this probably means he is likely to do whatever we ask of him. Very well, tell them I approve of this plan.” He pauses a moment and then asks. “And what of the Baratheons? How are they holding together?”

“They are falling apart my king. The usurper sits on his throne, angry with his wife and his hand, and brother. Stannis Baratheon sits on Dragonstone and broods on all the insults dealt to him. And the youngest one, well it seems he is becoming a Tyrell puppet.” Jon says.

“How likely would Stannis be likely to change sides if the right things were offered to him?” Rhaegar asks intrigued.

“I do not think the man would turn Your Grace. He seems to be one who is not willing to bend for anything but the law. And he sees his brother as the king.” Jon responds.

Rhaegar laughs then. “Once I would have agreed with you Jon, but every man has a price, no matter how high. It is just a case of finding out what it is.”

“Do you wish for an offer to be made then Your Grace?” Jon asks.

“No,” Rhaegar responds shaking his head. “Let us wait and see what Baratheon does, whether he remains confident in his brother or not. I will not reveal myself just yet, let us see Rowan and his allies make their move, and then we shall hit the usurper where it hurts him.”

Jon nods. “Very well sire, I shall send word to Lord Mathis.”

Rhaegar nods and is about to stand when there is a knock on the door. “Come in.” he says.

He finds Lyanna standing before him looking distressed. “What is it my love?” he asks. His mind goes to the children then.

Lyanna looks at him and her voice is barely audible when she speaks. “There has been word of your mother and brother.”

* * *

 

**10 th Month of 287 A.C. The Mander**

**Lord Mathis Rowan**

He had summoned his men and then marching to Old Oak had met with the forces under command of Lady Oakheart, they had feinted toward Highgarden to scare Mace Tyrell, and the man had blathered and dithered, and shut himself up in Highgarden, just as Mathis thought he would. From there they had marched southward, the plan was to meet with the Florents and their allies south of the Mander and begin their offensive from there. However, Randyll Tarly had decided to break the pattern and had summoned his men and was now waiting for them, a battle was to be waged, and Mathis was eagerly looking forward to it.

For as long as he could remember, Tarly had been a thorn in his side, and that of his family, always there to take credit for things that were not of his doing. Tarly, the man who had slain his brother in a fit of sport. Tarly, a man whom Mathis had come to despise beyond all others. He would have that man killed, and he would be the man to do it, he was certain of that. Tarly had come, just as they had known he would and by the gods would he have his revenge, for all the insults dealt  to him, Ashford, Storm’s End all of them, he would have his revenge.

He looks around, noting the positions of battle, knowing that things are in place. He takes a deep breath, and then puts his lips to the horn, the war horn that had come from his ancestors long ago. He takes a deep shuddering breath, and then when it is done, he puts the horn against his side, and draws his lance, preparing for battle. His heart is hammering within his chest, he digs his spurs into his horse and leads the charge. Mathis can see the Tarly huntsman floating in the sky, he feels anger grow, and he allows it to carry him.

The water splashes against his horse and he feels it hit his legs, his armoured legs, he has lived a whole life in armour, fighting, always fighting. Fighting to make sure that his house did not lose their place amongst the top flight of the reach. He knows Osgrey would love nothing more than for him to fall, but he does not think that that is something that will happen. Osgrey does not have enough power to make such a thing work, and as such he knows that the man might well fall by the end of this. Gods above he hopes so, he really does, he does not know if he can stomach another time spent with Osgrey. His lance hits something, and he is brought back to reality.

The lance crashes into one man and then another, sending him through the throngs of pain, Mathis welcomes it, welcomes the harsh sense of reality that it brings. He has never liked the feeling of drifting that so often comes to him when he is not in the saddle, something inside of him resists it, makes him want to cry out and anger and pain. He was not born to sit still, he was made to ride and fight. He is a born soldier, something that has only become more pronounced as he has gotten older. His lance continues on its path, before it breaks and he draws his sword, the true fighting about to begin.

Fighting with a sword is much more freeing, there is a sense of becoming one with nature itself. Mathis has never been able to explain it to himself, let alone put it into words, the feeling he gets when he fights with a sword. It just is, it is another part of him, and it is a part he feels comfortable with. His whole life has been ifs and buts, but not on the battlefield, on the battlefield he reigns supreme and he knows it. Others know it as well, Tarly certainly knows it, and that is why he has always tried to outshine Mathis, for Tarly is just like Mathis, a second son, someone who grew up in the shadow of a more formidable brother. Always trying to prove himself.

In a way, Mathis admits, perhaps that should have led to a common kinship between them, but instead it merely sowed the seeds of a rivalry between them, the rivalry that started when they were children, and has slowly progressed beyond that. It is now something akin to a burning hatred, they do not war as their fathers did, but it is now something that must be dealt with for the good of the kingdom. Mathis knows this, and that is why he is fighting here in the midst of the Mander, pain is weighing heavily on him, and he cannot see Tarly anywhere, that is beginning to anger him, where is the coward?

Mathis bellows challenges for the foes to come and face him, and he cuts them down. He has never been a slouch with a sword, growing up in his family that was not an option, the only option was fighting and succeeding to win. He grew up with many cuts and bruises, but they made him the man he is today. Not perfect, but not flawed either, he is somewhere in between he would think. Obviously Bethany would say something different, but then she naturally would. He loves his wife, always has done, but he cannot help but resent the fact that she was supposed to marry the blackfish before him. There is still no sign of Tarly, and Mathis is growing impatient, his men are growing tired, but he knows unless he can finish off Tarly they are not done here. He needs to find Tarly and kill him otherwise they are doomed. As if on cue, a horn blows, and there is Randyll Tarly charging toward him, Mathis bellows a challenge and goes to meet him.


	12. Two Jons

**12 th Month of 287 A.C. Stormlands**

**Jon Connington**

The word that the Stark woman had brought to the king had been mixed, Jon did not know what had been said, Rhaegar never told him anything of serious note anymore, but it seemed to both please and sadden his king, and that was something that concerned Jon. Jon did not know what to make of the Stark woman, she was the Queen, but she was not right for Rhaegar, Jon did not think so, he thought the woman was far too wilful and not obedient enough, but then Elia had been obedient as well, and Rhaegar had spurned her. He clearly saw something in the woman, but really Jon was not sure what he saw, and as such he kept away from her as much as possible.

That Rhaegar had ordered him to set sail with the band of men that they had found willing to serve, and attack the Stormlands had come as both a surprise and a blessing to Jon. He did not like waiting in Lys, and he did not like that he was being sent away from his king. Still, he did his duty and made sure to check the men beforehand, they had received word that the lords in the Stormlands who were loyal would join them in rebellion, and so far they had not been disappointed. Men had come, Cafferen, Grandison many others amongst them had come to his banner, for it was not yet the right time to fly the dragon banner. Still they had come and now they were preparing for battle.

It seemed that though the boy who was Lord of Storm’s End was too young to fight, his tutor was not, one Ser Cortnay Penrose was commanding the usurper’s Stormlords, and Jon could not wait to remove the traitor’s head from his body. They were gathered in the plains, where the marches and the old ground mixed together, and Jon was confident that they could win. He knew this ground like the back of his hand, had become a man here, shed blood here, and he knew this land, better than Penrose, who had spent time merely in the northern Stormlands, Penrose was soft, Jon was not. His father had seen to that. His father, gods that was someone he had not thought about in years, his father was long dead now, but Jon often wondered what he would think of what his son and heir had become.

His father had been a proud man, who had been honoured when Jon had been invited to court to squire alongside the prince, now the king. His father had told him many times not to forget his duty, and to make sure that he did his utmost to become friends with the crown prince. Jon had resented that, his father had never shown him so much attention before as he had done in those few days before he left for King’s Landing. He had come to King’s Landing expecting to despise the prince, and instead had found that he liked him and saw him as a brother, perhaps something more, but there was not a chance that could ever be. All Jon knew was that he would do anything the king asked him to. And so he straightens his lance and waits for the sound of the horn.

Jon is not sure what he makes of the lords fighting alongside him. Cafferen has always been someone who shifted, his father more so, that the man bent to the usurper, is something Jon has never forgotten and indeed, Jon is determined to have words with the man when this is said and done. Grandison, Grandison has always pled allegiance to the dragons, and even now he was the first one to answer the call, Jon thinks he can trust him and he hopes he is not wrong. As for the others they are present and they are there, but Jon does not think overly much of them, he knows for one thing that there is some truth in knowing where their hearts lie.

The king has never explicitly stated what he intends to do with the Baratheons, the traitorous scum who rose up when they should have been thankful. Jon would see them all hang, but his king is more merciful, and yet he has not yet said what need be done, and so Jon keeps his thoughts to himself. His lance tightens in his hand as the suspension grows within him. Eventually he hears the horn sound, another horn sounds somewhere in the distance, and he is digging his spurs into his horse, starting off at a slow pace, and then slowly but surely increasing speed into a gallop. Jon knows that what happens here might well determine the future of the war, he failed his king once, and he will not fail again.

The charge leads him into a firm crash with the enemy, Jon roars at the pain and uses his lance to shatter the enemy before him. One man falls before him and then another, and then another. They continue to fall before him, and he feels some deep satisfaction at that knowing as he does that their strength lies to the south. He needs to keep pressing, he cannot allow these traitors to get any inkling of what might be coming for them. He keeps his lance going strong, swinging and pushing through, more and more men fall before him, and eventually his lance shatters and he is hit, but not before drawing his own sword.

Jon has always been good at sword fighting, and as such that comes into good use now, slashing and hacking away at the foes who come before him. Their blood runs onto his sword, and he laughs, he laughs and laughs, for he knows he cannot lose now, he cannot die. These fools have not a single idea what they have just walked into, they will die and he will have his revenge. He cuts another man down when the sign of the wolf comes.

* * *

 

**2 nd Month of 288 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Jon Arryn**

He was ailing he knew he was, but he did not know how. How could he be ailing? He had been careful, ever mindful of his mother’s words. He had kept a firm eye on those who were in his service, and he made sure never to spend too long in the company of Lannisters, and still he was ailing. It boggled his mind and angered him somewhat. He knew things were falling around them as well, and Robert, Robert had not done anything, the man was not even here now, instead he was off with some whore or the other. Jon resented that, he really did resent that.

“What is the news coming from the Vale?” Jon asks fighting against a wave of pain.

The eunuch speaks. “It seems Lord Rowan and his group of rebels were successful in defeating the forces of Randyll Tarly, though Tarly himself managed to escape the fate of his brothers and relatives. The rebel host has not linked up with the Florents and their allies and it seems will be marching onward.”

“And have they stated why they are rebelling?” Jon asks, though he suspects he knows what the answer will be before the eunuch speaks.

“They are rebelling against the laziness and lack of foresight of Mace Tyrell my lord hand. They claim not to have any grievance against the king or the council, merely Lord Tyrell.” the eunuch responds.

“And you say that Lord Osgrey is a member of this little band of rebels?” Jon asks.

“Yes my lord hand, it seems he has found the right time to make good on all the threats he made during King Aerys reign.” the eunuch responds.

Jon snorts then, he remembers hearing about Osgrey, and the man’s father, descendants of Rohanne Webber, and rumoured to know about where she was or had been, they had been trying to hold that over Tywin Lannister for some time, in return for fair exchange of something taken long ago. Needless to say Tywin had not budged, and so something else had come into play. “Then there is something most definitely more at play here than mere disloyalty to Highgarden.”

“What makes you say that my lord hand?” Pycelle asks.

“Osgreys are known for their pride, and for years they’ve had something of a rivalry with the queen’s family, I do believe that now they might’ve found the right excuse to take advantage of that. I think there is more going on here, perhaps related to the dragons across the sea.” Jon responds.

“But we know not where Viserys and his mother are. They have all but disappeared.” Pycelle points out.

“I am well aware of that Pycelle, and yet I would not put it past them to be trying something. And with the news that we have of the Golden Company making a move westward, something is happening, indeed the presence of the rebels in the Stormlands and the defeat there would suggest as much.” Jon responds, grimacing at the memory.

The eunuch speaks then. “One would wonder how those men managed to get across the narrow sea, what with the royal fleet prowling the seas.”

Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone speaks then. “They attacked my men in the night and got away with it. Had I not been summoned back here I could have seen to it.”

Jon sighs then, he knows Baratheon bears a grudge against Robert for summoning him back from his duty, and then giving him a good bollocking when word came of the invasion there. That Ned had not answered their letters is just more fuel to the fire. “What word has come from the north?”

“None my lord hand.” Pycelle responds. “It seems Lord Stark is not in the mood for replying.”

Jon feels his heart begin to sink, had they truly come to this then? Ned remaining silent in his castle, whilst the realm fell apart around them. “Is it possible that the letters have not reached him?” he asks.

“Perfectly possible my lord hand, but unlikely, considering how good the weather has been as of late.” Pycelle responds.

Jon sighs and then turning to look at the master of coin asks. “How much money do we have available to begin raising men?”

The man whom Jon has long suspected of having other loyalties to put it kindly takes a moment to respond. “We have enough for around two years’ worth of fighting my lord hand, but whether or not we can progress from there depends on the king.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jon asks, dreading the answer.

“What I mean is that in order to get the loans needed to fund a longer war, the king himself will need to show the urgency for them. And at present I do not think he will.” the man responds.

“You would dare question your king?” Stannis asks his tone sharp.

“No my lord, I am merely stating what I have observed. The king is not even here, he is somewhere else. How can we expect the lenders to want to lend money to a king who does not even seem willing to fight?” the master of coin asks.

“I think that we might need to consider other options.” Jon says quickly wanting to avoid an argument. “Now tell me, what word is there of the rebels in the Stormlands where are they heading?”

The eunuch looks at him and then responds. “They are moving through the Stormlands gaining support, and then I think they intend to move on Storm’s End.”

Jon feels his heart sink then, this was not what he wanted to hear. “And with Ser Cortnay dead, we are running out of commanders to take up the mantle.”

The door opens then and Jon turns to find himself looking at the king. “I shall go. It is time I reminded those fools who it was they swore fealty to.”


	13. War

**4 th Month of 288 A.C. Stormlands**

**Jon Connington**

They had won a victory against Penrose and his army of traitors, and Jon had seen more lords flock to his banner. Men who had remained neutral in the beginning, not wanting to cast their lot in with a rebel lord too early, those who had come were those who had never truly liked the Baratheons, the Boilers and the Bucklers, who claimed descent from the Durrandons of old, who thought the Stormlands were theirs by right. Men who did not want to fight for a boy who was a Tyrell puppet, for a king who was a Lannister one. There were still men who did not venture out from their keeps, who preferred to remain within them to watch the fighting. Jon did not begrudge them, he knew they would pay their price before this was all said and done. He was counting on that.

Word had come from their sources within King’s Landing that the usurper had decided to act. Robert Baratheon had summoned the lords of the crownlands and had marched southward. Jon had kept his men back, not wanting to engage the man before the time was right. He knew when that would be and it was not now. Robert Baratheon was not a man of great patience, Jon remembered that much from before the rebellion, sooner or later he would do something, something very stupid, and he would come to regret that. Indeed, it seemed the man had already done that stupid thing that Jon had thought he would.

Jon’s scouts had reported that Baratheon had led the vanguard himself, taking some four thousand men with him, alongside two members of his Kingsguard, to come and fight Jon’s host. Jon laughed, Baratheon might have been Lord of the Stormlands once before becoming king, but he had never grown up here. He was a man of the vale for all intents and purposes, there was nothing here for him to use to his advantage, anything he might try to use, Jon would use against him, and would use better than he could. And so the waiting began, Baratheon was advancing at quite the pace, according to Jon’s scouts. No doubt he was eager to get some fighting done, a way to vent out all his frustration. That would only make him more careless.

Jon remembers the lessons his father taught him as a lad, before he went off to squire alongside the king. A man as hell bent as Robert Baratheon seemed to be, would always make some mistake, and would always overlook something or the other. Four thousand men were coming with Baratheon the left were to make their own route toward the battlefield, and that, that was Baratheon’s mistake. The lords of the crownlands were sworn to the throne yes, but they had always been Targaryen men, had never looked on any who tried to take over that role with kindness. There was a betrayal coming for Baratheon that might well lead to his defeat. Jon was looking forward to that. He is looking forward to seeing the look on Baratheon’s face when he is brought down, when he is slain or captured. The king might want to spare the usurper, but Jon knows they cannot assure the king’s safety with the man alive. Stark might be considering his options in that situation.

Stark, Jon does not know what to make of the man, he remembers seeing him briefly at Harrenhal, a quiet lad, who seemed smitten with Ashara Dayne, other than that nothing. It was more his older brother Jon looked at, Brandon Stark, handsome Brandon Stark who was charming and was nearly as good as the king at some things. Jon dared not think on that though. Stark was a traitor, had fought for the usurper, but had only bent the knee because of his sister. And he supposed that was commendable, though there were times when Jon doubted just how sincere the man had been about that.

Something about the Starks has always rankled Jon, that they could have risen so high during the reign of the dragons without ever really doing anything that the king could have courted them so seriously before Harrenhal, without Rickard Stark ever having looked to bring himself to war. It boggled Jon’s mind, the king of course thought that without the Starks the north would fall into chaos, but Jon thought that that was a good thing, it was a big kingdom, better to have it fighting itself than the throne. Still, he was not sure he was truly the best judge of the northmen, considering his own thoughts on the Queen. She was wild and untameable, seemed to spend more time riding and mock fighting than with the children, it was unacceptable to Jon and he wanted to bring it up with the king, and he would do so if he weren’t sure the king would have him reprimanded for that.

He does not understand the fascination the king and the usurper have for the Queen. She is nothing, nothing special, not overly smart and not overly beautiful, she is just there. Average in looks and intelligence, and yet they went to war over her, and he suspects that this is another war for her as much as it is about reclaiming the throne. He sighs then, knowing as he does that there is no end to it. It will always happen, destined to happen, some could say. His man comes to him and reports of the banners flying close by, he calls his men to attention, nods for the horn to be sounded and then leads his men to the charge.

They crash into the Baratheon host, the crownlanders who are fighting with a lot of passion and vigour. Jon takes a blow here and there, his lance falls down by the way side relatively quickly, but he continues fighting. He is looking for the usurper, and he knows where to find him. They lock eyes during the course of battle, and Jon advances forward, they bellow curses at one another, and then it begins. They clash and clash, both using their strength to overpower the other, Jon and Baratheon are young men, in the prime of their lives, they fight. And fight, and Jon gets wounded badly, but so too does Baratheon, but just when Jon thinks he is about to succeed, he slips and his horse falls and as it does, the hammer comes to see him.

* * *

 

**Somewhere within the Reach**

**Lord Mathis Rowan**

He was not quite sure where they were, somewhere deep within the heart of the reach. They had meant to go northward toward Highgarden, but then something had happened near Brightwater Keep and Lord Florent had forced them to head there, where the issue had been quickly dealt with. And then a force had come out from Oldtown, and easily dispatched, it seemed the Hightowers were not truly that concerned about them, after all they did have something serious themselves up their sleeves. Mathis though was rather annoyed that that man Tarly had survived, it was aggravating, truly it was, seeing the man alive, after their fight, and by the gods it was aggravating.

Tarly was supposed to die, and yet the man had done something Mathis had thought he never would do, he had led a retreat, to where Mathis did not know, but Tarly and his men had disappeared, and that worried him. Tarly, was a dangerous man, someone who was not to be taken lightly, and as such he had spent many hours up at night, trying to consider where the man could have gone, and why he had done as he had done. He was still trying to make sense of it now, and he knew there was a battle to come. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could sense it. The unease of being watched, somewhere, someone was watching them, trying to assess whether or not they were ripe for the taking or not.

He does not know who it is that is watching them, but he has a feeling, something Osgrey said about lions hiding in plain sight, during one of their marches, has gotten him to thinking. What if there is more to all of this than meets the eye, as of yet, there has been no word from the riverlands or from the north, and that is something that is more concerning. What precisely is going on there? Mathis does not know, but he has a feeling that Tywin Lannister might just know, and of course the man is kin to Osgrey, of course Osgrey hates Lannister, and by the gods this is too confusing. He needs to focus, but on what he does not know.

Mathis is a soldier and a commander, he has always been those things, from the moment he could understand what they were. They were things he embraced, and made sure he understood, his brother was supposed to be the lord, Mathis was merely the man who would command the forces of Goldengrove, and then his brother died, and that fell apart. He would like to think he has done a reasonable job of being Lord of Goldengrove, and yet, there are times when the doubt begins to creep in, and he really begins wondering if the world is just laughing at him. It is a torturous experience but it is one that he goes through almost on a daily basis. He has come to accept it, and fight it even, when the time is there. Still, there are times when the pain is too much for him to bear, and now it seems, one of those times might be upon him.

He closes in on himself, commanding his men, barking orders when he needs to and they continue their march through the lands that are lost to him. He does not know their name, and that eats away at him, his brother would have known their name, as would his father, and yet he does not, he wishes he was with his wife, and their children, but he will not break from his duty. The time has come to show himself and equal with all the others, with Florent, with Tarly, with Hightower, with Osgrey with all of them, he will show them who he is, and how he is better than them. Even if it kills him, he will show them, he has to, he cannot accept any other course of action, for that would mean accepting defeat and that is not something he is willing to do. It is something he has never been willing to do, ever since he was a child.

Defeat, there is no such word as defeat, only death. Death is the only thing that can stop a person that was what Mathis learned from his father, old Edgar Rowan who fought in three rebellions against the throne, and fought for the dragons winning them all for the dragons. His father was a great man, as was his brother, but Mathis, Mathis was nothing more than a man built to fight. A solider might flee from battle, but a commander cannot, for a commander must know how to pry victory from the jaws of defeat, that was the first lesson he ever learned, and it is one that has remained with him through everything he has experienced, it is what keeps him going now, even as the shadows fall across them.

Shadows, there were shadows like this once before, great hulking shadows that loomed large over them when the charge came, and death welcomed Mathis’ brother into its arms. He barks commands and his men begin preparing for the inevitable fight. The shadows come crashing down, Mathis draws his sword, and barks another set of commands, arrows fire, and men fall, but they are not the true threat, no the true threat is coming from the other side. Mathis spins his men around and they begin charging at the foe coming toward them, he roars as he rides, determined to inspire his men. They crash into the enemy before them, swinging their swords, fighting against lances and pikes and all other sorts of weapons, beating down on him, pushing into his mind, his father’s face, the feeling of inequality he often felt as a child, he feels anger grow within him and he slashes his anger out on the foes before him. It does no good though, they are too many, and his army is overwhelmed, their allies nowhere to be seen.


	14. Stark

**4 th Month of 288 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

Things were moving very quickly, the invasion which Ned had been expecting for some time had come, and with it had come the changing tides. Connington had won a victory against Cortnay Penrose and was heading toward Storm’s End, a move that was guaranteed to draw Robert out of King’s Landing, regardless of his own thoughts toward the man, there was one thing Ned knew, and that was that his friend would never tolerate a threat toward his home, especially with young Renly being there. And then there was the fighting within the Reach, Ned had not been expecting that, Mathis Rowan had always seemed a stickler for duty, and as such his act of rebellion had come as a great surprise, though now he thought about it, Ned did think he should not have been so surprised, there was something about Rowan that just seemed to fit the mode of a rebel.

Of course, it was no good merely thinking about all of this, there would be consequences, and right now Ned needed to decide what action he wanted to take, that was why he had asked to meet with his advisors as it were and as he looks around the room he can see some tension within them. He looks at his wife, and seeing her sat next to him her expression tense, he takes her hand tentatively and holds it. “I thank you for coming to this meeting. We are facing an interesting time. There is rebellion occurring within the realm, and we all know who is behind it. Now, one might think that I would fight for Robert, considering my prior activity for him during the rebellion, however times have changed. My sister and her husband are the ones leading this rebellion and as such a lot must needs be considered. Luwin you have the books do you not?”

The maester nods. “I do my lord, and I have calculated just how much might be made from this war, and how much might be lost.”

Ned nods, he does not like having to think this way, and the cost of war should be counted in the bodies that will end up piled up at the end of it, not in terms of money. But that is the world they live in and as such it is one he is slowly coming to terms with. Looking at the maester he asks. “And what have you found?”

“That the cost of going to war might be more beneficial than remaining behind and waiting. King Rhaegar has the backing of some seriously powerful men and their families in Essos, the Rogare and their allies in Lys, the Maegyr and their allies in Volantis, and then there is the fact that many within Westeros are worried that Robert Baratheon is becoming a Lannister puppet. That in itself has reduced his ability to gain loans from other sources.” the maester responds.

Ned looks at Benjen then and asks. “Is this true? Have you heard reports confirming this?”

His brother, the Lord of Cerwyn takes a moment to respond. “Yes, it seems Robert whilst charging off to fight Jon Connington in the Stormlands, left orders for Tywin Lannister to continue funnelling money into the royal coffers.”

Ned sighs then, his friend, well the man is not really his friend anymore, but still, the man is not helping himself. “And Wyman has managed to curtail the spending that might otherwise have been necessary for this?”

“He has.” Catelyn says speaking then. “He sent word that there would not be another shipment of the payment going off to King’s Landing until the war was done.”

Ned nods his thanks then. “Very well, so that much has been taken care of. What of the riverlands my lady? I know your father has had his doubts, but what will he do?”

“If Tywin Lannister is going to be coming to call soon enough, I do believe my father would do his duty. If I remember correctly, he had doubts about Lord Robert even during the rebellion, and as such he might well think it is more in his best interest to ensure that the family and the riverlands are protected.” his wife responds.

Ned nods, before looking toward Benjen once more. “Have you had word from our allies within the Vale? What do they plan on doing?”

His brother seems to be considering this a moment before responding. “I do think that they shall be waiting to see. Jon Arryn is still alive, and the more time he remains alive, the more time they think that Robert can emerge triumphant.”

Ned sighs then, he had not been expecting anything else if he were being truly honest with himself, and still it is a pain. “And, I take it that you are still in favour of ensuring that he is not there for the rest of the war?”

His brother nods. “It is the only guaranteed way to dent Robert’s confidence Ned, you said it yourself. If Jon Arryn is removed from the scene then there will be a hole where the leadership once was. Robert is a fighter, you’ve said that yourself. He cannot command properly, remove Arryn and this will be over soon enough.”

Ned ponders this. “It is true, and yet there is nothing honourable about what you propose brother. If Jon Arryn must die, let it be in battle, where one might finally show him the error of his ways. Not with a cold dagger pressed against his throat.”

“Do you truly believe he will come out to fight Ned? The man is nearly old enough to be counted as an ancient. What is there that will force him to move from King’s Landing?” Benjen asks.

Ned sighs then. “I do not know, but there has to be something that would force his hand. I will not see him slain without a fight.”

A silence falls over their meeting then, before his wife speaks. “I think I might know a way to get Lord Arryn out into the field of battle. But I am not sure if you will like it my lord.”

* * *

 

**6 th Month of 288 A.C. Lys**

**Queen Lyanna Targaryen**

It seemed that there would not be an end to the fighting, she and Rhaegar had eloped together and a war had broken out, she had never forgotten the moment when she had been told of her father and brother’s deaths. The anger, the fear, the loathing she had felt for herself and for Rhaegar in that moment had been something terrible, and then slowly she had allowed herself to grieve, and then had come the anger with Rhaegar, he was older than her, he should have known better, then had come the other realisations. Here they were now, five years after that moment, both a little older and a little wiser, and her husband was to go off to war once more, and Lyanna did not know how she felt. She was worried, terrified that he might not come back, and she was happy he was going to fight for what was theirs.

She looks at her husband now, playing with their son, Jon, who at five looks almost like Benjen did at that age, she smiles at the sight, and Rhaenys is sat there as well, sewing. She looks at her husband and then asks. “Did you make sure everything was in place?”

Her husband looks up at her and nods. “Aye, I did. I have made sure that we have all the supplies and back up supplies we could need. Nothing will go missing I am sure of it. Ser Gerold assures me of that.”

Lyanna nods. “And what of Ser Jaime? Has he decided what he will do?”

“I think he is rather hoping to avoid answering that question anytime soon.” her husband responds softly. “I believe, that he thinks if he fights well enough he can prove himself worthy of a place within the Kingsguard. I do not think he wants to be Lord of the Rock.”

“Why do you think that is?” Lyanna asks.

Her husband sighs then. “Because he does not want the burden that such a title brings with it. Because he feels more comfortable fighting than ruling. I do not understand it, but I will not force him into doing something he does not want to do.”

From the way her husband is looking at her Lyanna knows he is talking about her as much as he is about Ser Jaime. “I came of my own free will Rhaegar. You did not force me to come here. And yes, I might have said something different when we were in the tower, but I was young and foolish then. I know better now.”

Her husband looks at her with so much emotion in his eyes, that Lyanna feels as though she herself might cry. His voice is very soft when he says. “I am sorry Lyanna, truly sorry for what I did. I did not think before, and I know that you would not be in this situation if it were not for me. I promise I will make it better, I promise you I will do all I can to make sure you and our children never have to run again.”

Lyanna looks at her husband and nods. “I know. I also know that if you try something funny, I will personally gut you.” she smiles then and her husband laughs.

“Oh I always knew you had fire in you.” Rhaegar responds smiling.

Lyanna smiles back at her husband before asking him. “What word has there been from Westeros? I know there was some trouble within the Stormlands but I was not sure what that was exactly.”

She can tell by the way her husband’s shoulders tense, that the news might well not be good. However, he does not, not tell her, instead he says. “Jon fought Robert Baratheon and died. He was slain fighting the man himself, and his force was pushed back.”

Lyanna reaches across and takes her husband’s hand then. “Oh I am sorry my love. I know you were good friends with Jon.”

Her husband smiles sadly. “Aye, but he did his duty, and now we must make sure that there is nothing that means his sacrifice was in vain. Lord Cafferen took over command of the army and as such has led a retreat back to Summerhall, whilst it seems Baratheon is at Storm’s End at the moment trying to heal himself.”

“Where will you land?” Lyanna asks.

Her husband takes a moment to consider and then he says. “We shall land in the Rainwood, it makes sense to go there, and from there we shall march up to meet with Cafferen’s army.”

“What of the Dornish what will you do about them?” Lyanna asks.

Her husband sighs then and says. “I do not know, I do believe that we shall need to sit down with them and discuss some things before the time ends. After all, they might well have had a hand in what happened to my mother and brother, as well as my sister.”

“How are they doing?” Lyanna asks.

Rhaegar looks at her his expression sad. “They are well, though my mother seems in ill health. I shall need to see what more can be done before I leave.”

There is a pause in their conversation, and then their son speaks. “Papa, can I come with you?”

Her husband looks surprised. “Well, if you were older I would say yes my boy, but if you come with me who will protect your mother and Rhaenys?”

Jon seems to consider that before responding. “I’ll stay papa, and I will promise mama and Rhaenys, I promise.”

Her husband kisses the top of their son’s head and responds. “I know you will son. I know you will.”

Lyanna stands up then and says. “Jon, Rhaenys I think it is time to say goodnight to your father.”

Her son and her adopted daughter stand up kiss their father good night before walking out of the room accompanied by Ser Oswell Whent. When they are gone, Lyanna looks at her husband and asks softly. “How will you deal with Robert?”

Her husband looks at her then and responds simply. “I shall do what I should have done long ago. I will  kill him.”


	15. Death

**6 th Month of 288 A.C. Riverlands**

**Lord Hoster Tully**

He was getting too old for this, he was fifty years old and he was in armour. Once more required to fight in a battle for the Targaryens, he did not know what to think, but all he knew was that at the end of this he would most definitely ensure that he had forts built along the road, that was if he lived to see through this battle. He was not sure that he would, Tywin Lannister had come with some fifty thousand men, divided into two hosts one commanded by himself and the other by his brother Ser Kevan, and they had invaded from two different points. Hoster was trying desperately to keep his nerves in check, the Lannisters were not a completely dangerous foe, but they were dangerous. He would be a fool to not acknowledge that.

Tywin was a dangerous man, and this rebellion was something Hoster had held doubts about for some time. Oh yes, he knew what the benefits could be if the Targaryens were restored and he was seen as aiding in that restoration, however, he was not sure if he was truly willing to commit all of his men toward his action. He had summoned his banners when he learned of Tywin’s intent, he would not allow the men to simply march through his lands unimpeded, and thirty thousand men or there about had answered his call to arms, he was the main commander, but he needed to see where the others would be. Cat’s husband had come south with men as well, angry northmen determined to dent Lannister pride, and they had planned their battle accordingly, and yet Hoster was still nervous.

A man who was not nervous when going to fight the Lannisters was a fool. Hoster, was not a fool, he was too old to be a fool. He had fought in too many battles to be counted as a fool now, he knew his way around the battlefield. Still, there was something in him that hoped, that perhaps they might win today, the Lannisters were aiming for King’s Landing, and Tywin Lannister was known for being ruthless when his mind was set to it. However, Ser Kevan whilst a good commander was not as ruthless as his brother, and that was where Hoster hoped things might be good. If they could come across Kevan Lannister and his men perhaps they could succeed. It was not a very good thought, not honourable, but right now there was nothing about honour that he was thinking about. Hoster wanted to win and survive, his son needed him.

Edmure was not yet a man grown, only four and ten namedays old. He was a confident lad Edmure was, a bit naïve, and a bit arrogant, but a good lad all the same. Hoster was proud of him, proud that he could show such courage, he was in Riverrun now, not fighting, for Hoster could not allow that, not now at least. There was much and more Hoster needed to teach his son, and tell him, especially about Lysa and her child, gods he knew who the father was, his own children had torn themselves apart before the rebellion, and now Lysa, Lysa was not speaking to him. She did not reply to his letters, he did not know how to feel. He had done what he thought was necessary, perhaps it was better this way that she think the child gone. It was much better than allowing that fool Baelish any more power over her.

The horn sounds and Hoster prepares for the charge. He thinks of Brynden then, his stubborn brother in the Vale, keeping Lysa safe, no doubt wanting to fight in this war. It would be better to have Brynden by his side, Hoster knows this, and he regrets the arguments he and his brother have had. He wants his brother by his side, he truly does, but he will not ask him to come back, not unless Brynden wishes to. But, Hoster is not naïve enough to believe Brynden will come back now. No his sense of family will entail him to remain with Lysa, and that is something Hoster is glad for. Lysa’s accusations haunt him to this day, and he knows, he just knows there are things that he has to say. But he will never say them.

There are times when Hoster thinks he is too old for regrets, but then he remembers something his father once said, no one is too old for regrets, or too young. Doubt, it is an emotion that can cause all kinds of pain, something that might well infect his family, he knows his own father harboured a lot of doubt and guilt about his aunt, the aunt who was supposed to marry King Jaehaerys, she did not and then she disappeared. Hoster sighs then, it does no good thinking of those who are long dead, and it does no good thinking of those things that have passed. And yet, he knows that he cannot stop thinking of them. It is in a person’s nature to dwell on those things that are beyond their control. The gods cursed them with this, and so he bears the burden as he hears the horn and digs his spurs into his horse.

It starts off at a slow pace, Hoster can feel his heart beating quickly, and it knows that the time is coming. Very soon he knows that things will either end or continue for him. He welcomes it, perhaps he has lived for too long, perhaps he has not lived long enough, he does not know, all he knows is that he wishes to remain alive to teach his son, to see his son have sons of his own, to see Cat once more, and to see Lysa and to apologise. He does not know if he will get that chance, but he would like to try. Gods know he would like to try. His horse is galloping now, he is leading the charge, his heart is racing in his chest, and his lance is raised, his hand shaking. He sees the enemy coming and then comes the crash, hitting the enemy one at a time, on and on it goes, then it ends, a lance through him, he gurgles and falls, blood coming through him.

* * *

 

**The Narrow Sea**

**Lord Stannis Baratheon**

Storm’s End should have been his, it really should have been. It is not that he does not understand why Robert gave him Dragonstone, he does, but he knows Storm’s End should have been his. He is the eldest, after Robert, he was Robert’s heir until the boy was born, and so he resents that he was not given it. Robert does not see, does not choose to see, his brother is blind to those things he does not want to see or hear. It angers Stannis, their father was not like that, and their father would have seen and would have understood. Their father who died serving a mad king, a king who was their rightful king, Stannis remembers the choice he had to make when the rebellion began, it haunts him every day and night, he thinks on it and wonders, at what could have been. It never haunted him during the siege, actually that is a lie it did, every day and night, when he saw Renly, saw his brother pleading for more food it haunted him, and it angered him. He was angry at the world for making things this way, and he was angry with himself.

And now Renly sits in Storm’s End, as its Lord, and that angers him, the boy, the boy is different, how Stannis does not know, but he is. It is the influence of that Tyrell boy, it has corrupted him, and or rather it is corrupting him. Stannis does not like the Tyrells does not want them to see him or even know him, and yet Robert is happy to listen to their blithering replies and platitudes. He does not understand that, and he resents that. He has not been to Storm’s End for three years now, and he does not regret not going, he knows that if he went he would not be able to bear it. It would eat at him and make him feel unworthy, just as he has felt his whole life. He has served for years, as the loyal son and then the loyal brother, and there is no reward for him, Robert hates him and he does not know why.

They had been patrolling the seas, and Stannis was about to bring more men to the Stormlands to Robert when the pirate fleet had struck. Their attack had come from nowhere, and it had caught him off of guard, and now they were trying desperately to fight back. Stannis himself was fighting, it was a close call really, swinging his sword, barking orders, moving backwards and forwards, trying desperately to make sure they were okay. It was thankless work, there was some motive here, some other thing that was going on, he and his men and the men on board were fighting and then these pirates were destroying them. He could not understand, was not sure he wanted to understand and yet he was curious.

The blows are coming in thick and fast now, the waves are moving, Stannis can feel himself lurching from side to side. He has never really been completely comfortable on the waves, but he can handle himself better than either of his brothers, that is something he prides himself on, his sea legs when compared to Robert and Renly, they are far better than them. It is one of the few things he is actually good at, and that is something he clings to. It sounds petty, and as much as he hates that fact, it is a truth, and he knows that he cannot hide from it. He continues fighting then, blocking a blow from a towering giant of a man. He bellows orders and he and his men move forward, trying to stem the tide.

His armour weighs heavily on him as he moves, the ships are moving unsteadily, and the waves are crashing all about them. There is something about fighting on the ship that has always made Stannis feel uneasy, and today is another one of those times. Childish fears come crawling back toward him, and as the ship rocks violently, he fears that he might be about to go overboard. He swallows nervously and then slowly begins to move forward, his sword raised. Men are falling about him, when did it start raining? It falls about him, and he cannot see, he blinks but still it is hard to really see through this thing, he continues forward, moving forward, pushing someone out of his way. The sea roars, and he shivers internally, on he goes, moving forward.

His side aches from where someone attacked him, the armour dented slightly, he is bleeding, something within him is screaming for him to stop, but he does not stop, he will never stop, so long as there is air in his body he will not stop. And so he continues, swinging his sword, and cutting down those who come before him, he swallows as the pain engulfs him, a sharp wracking pain that leaves him momentarily blinded, but then he moves forward and it is forgotten. A flash of white before him and he is staggering toward it, it has disappeared and more men are coming before him, he cuts them down but they are having their own go at him as well. It burns, his arms, his legs, his face, his eyes, everything burns, but still he continues. Death has not come for him just yet, and it seems something is stopping it, he curses and then continues fighting.

The white cloak flashes before him then, and a bat comes dancing before him, swinging and slashing away. Stannis struggles, he is wounded aye, but he can fight, but this man is fighting with something akin to fire floating through him, he continues pushing, trying desperately to regroup and to continue, but the man keeps him penned back, unable to move forward, he feels life leaving him, he tries to push forward and yet he keeps getting pushed back. The stars are floating before him now, when did it become so dark? Why is it raining red? The bat pierces his neck and he falls forward and then backward, a watery grave awaiting him.


	16. Delieverance

****

**6 th Month of 288 A.C. Riverlands**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

It felt strange to be back in armour, the last time he had donned the armour it had been to fight for Robert, and now he was fighting against Robert. It was an odd thought that, how the tides had changed, how they had grown apart, he regretted that, but he also knew that perhaps it had been inevitable, they were not always the friends they had been during the war, and they were too different, too much apart. They wanted different things, the list for the justifications was endless Ned knew, and so he did not think on it too much, or he tried not to anyway, it was difficult not to, especially when he marched through the place where they had won the crown for Robert.

That Robert must go is the one thing Ned is sure of. His friend, or former friend has begun wasting the alliances they had made during the war, and has begun implementing policies that do not do him any favours, it is something that makes him wonder at what they saw in him. Why they chose him as king, he does not know, he guesses they will never truly know. He suspects that perhaps Jon Arryn had something to do with that, Jon, his old mentor the friend who he still looks up to in some aspects, the man who guided him and Robert, and the man who will suffer when this is all done. Ned wonders at that, wonders why it has come to this.

Lyanna that is the answer. His sister with her impulsiveness and her needs, she doomed them all when she ran away with the prince. Ned will never understand why she did it, why she agreed to run when she knew better. And then there is Rhaegar, now the king, Ned does not really like the man and thinks he took some advantage of Lyanna as well, but he does not know what to do about it. He made a promise to them, and he intends to stick by it, even if some part of him squirms. He knows that his own family will never be safe unless Rhaegar and Lyanna are king and queen, the Lannisters will work far too hard to make sure that they are not safe, and he cannot have that.

And now, he rides with his men, he rides to fight a battle against Tywin Lannister. A formidable foe, and one Ned knows will do all he can to make Ned die. Ned has watched the Lannister battle formations from afar for some days now, and it is only today that he has finally decided on a plan himself. The Greatjon was sent out in advance with a force of men to lure Lannister men out from where they have dug themselves in, and he succeeded in doing so, just as Ned knew he would. The Greatjon is a great man for this sort of fighting, charging and fighting boldly, definitely the thing he lives for. Ned had then sent Rickard Karstark and his men out into the left flank, determined to trap some men who fled from the Greatjon’s onslaught. He had watched all of this from atop the hill, and then when the sign had come he had let hell down on the westermen.

His heart hammers within his chest, the call of the wild, it has always come strongly toward him, and so he moves with it, his horse beneath him galloping toward the foe that approaches ever more. His sword drawn, it weighs heavily within his hands, and he prepares for the inevitable crash, when it comes he lets loose. All the anger and the frustration, it comes out now, he swings his sword, cutting men down, men who wield lances as if that will do them any good against cold hard northern anger. Some men fall around him, but not him, he continues swinging his sword, bellowing commands determined to break through this all and find Tywin Lannister himself. Slay the man and end the threat.

They continue moving through this current crowd of westermen, Ned feels his heart racing, can feel it physically throbbing against his chest, he knows not what it means, but he knows that he needs to keep on fighting. To stop, well to stop would be to bring more and more damage to himself and his men, and he cannot, and will not allow that. He continues swinging his sword, determined to end the threat before him and his family. He continues onward, pushing through, his sword weighing heavily within his hands, Ned does not know what has come over him, only that he has to fight, he has to keep moving forward, stopping now would not be right.

His own body is taking its fair share of blows, the westermen are fighting with a lot of intensity, Ned knows this, he also knows that his men are fighting back with just as much if not more intensity as well. His sword is heavy, his hands ache, his arms ache, the armour is beginning to chafe into him, but he keeps fighting, he keeps moving, he was taught never to give up, and he will not give up now. He refuses to give up now, he will keep fighting, and he will keep going, for his wife and children, for the north that he loves so. For father and for Brandon he will keep going.

He keeps fighting, swinging his sword, roaring commands, his men following him, as he knows they will continue to do so. His sword is stained red with blood, the blood of his enemies, of good men who came to fight for a cause they did not know nor really care about. It sickens him, but he knows that is the way of the world, it turns his heart to stone against Robert, against Rhaegar and against Lyanna, they have brought this on the kingdoms and now he fights, he fights and fights. He fights until he cannot fight anymore.

* * *

 

**The crownlands**

**Lord Jon Arryn**

Jon had never thought he would ride out into battle again, he was nearly seventy years old after all, and yet here he was, dressed in armour, commanding a small host of men to check some disturbing reports coming from the eastern coast of the crownlands. It seemed that there was a party flying the dragon banner coming at all angles, Rhaegar Targaryen had come back from the dead, and men were rising throughout the realm for him. A dead ghost who had appeal, it was a strange thought for Jon, but nonetheless if it were true, he had to give credit to the man, he certainly knew how to make use of it. Robert was no doubt fuming and angry, and all the other countless things Robert felt. Jon just felt old, so very old.

He had outlived all of his siblings, well the trueborn ones at least. His father’s bastard son Artys was out there somewhere, cutting a living, living as a cutthroat, the man Jon had helped raise, long gone. It was a strange thought knowing that, knowing that his bastard brother and his nephew were the last hope of his dynasty, his wife had not given birth to a single thing since the stillborn monstrosity that had come forth a few years ago. It seemed that his line would end and with it House Arryn. He knew his brother would laugh at that, all his hopes of dynasty gone, dead with him. Jon did not expect to survive through this war, he was too old, too tired, too broken to continue fighting on for life, and now he knew who to thank.

The Targaryens, they had always had something to do with his family, ever since the conquest, perhaps from before it, if some of the old tales were to be believed. Things were just falling apart, one by one, his family had been destroyed fighting for the dragons, until it had come to his father and the Prince Maegor, or was it Prince Aelor? Two men, and one a Targaryen prince as heir to the Vale. His father had been chosen, just barely, because there were lords in the Vale who were wary of having the Targaryens control the throne and the vale. His father was not from the mainline, had been chosen because of that. And yet there was something there within Jon that had never been sure.

Jon did his bit for his family, making sure the threat to it was removed bit by bit, it took him many years, but he finally managed to get to it, and he is sure, confident even that the last of the false falcon dragons is dead, but he has never been sure. He knows one got away, one disappeared before Summerhall, and has never appeared once more, and that thought haunts him more than ever, more than some of the secrets he has kept for years, his family’s secrets about their rise to the top. He knows things, things he tried to keep hidden, but he is not sure he succeeded in doing so, and now his nephew and his brother are dead, gods it really has come to this.

They are riding in silence, Jon does not know these men as well as he would like, they are a mixture of his own household guard, and men from the city watch, and he harbours doubts about them. They ride in silence, and his heart begins racing, he wonders what might happen if he gives a command now, he wonders what might happen if there is a chance to break through these things, these shackles he has around him. Moving through the continual departure of life, he rides, his horse is tiring, there is no sign of the enemy before them, but he knows they are there, somewhere.

Jon can sense them, lurking within the shadows, he has met their type before, they wait until the last moment before springing into action. He lost his wife to them once, his first wife, Jeyne, she died because of these men, or their forebearers, and he feels hate stir within him. The deep needed desire to avenge himself, but he keeps a reign on his emotions. He cannot get carried away now, to do that would be to cost them all what they have come for, and he will not allow that, not if he can help it. He pushes his horse onward, pushing through the fog that is slowly engulfing his mind, he does not know where things will go, but he hopes he can direct them.

An arrow comes whizzing out of the darkness, and Jon knows that perhaps his hopes of directing their effort are to prove futile. He barks a command and soon his men are forming up, he is prepared for their assault this time, unlike when he came here with Jeyne, anger grows in him then, the anger that thinking of his first wife always brings. He stands tall, and continues riding forward, another arrow whizzes by, taking out one of the men, Jon hears a groan and then a fall, he keeps riding, and he needs them out in the open.  He keeps riding, his heart hammering, he is too old for this, all of it, and yet he will do it, most definitely he will keep doing it.

Another arrow lurches out from somewhere in the mist, and that is when they come, charging out, bellowing in defiance, calling out for something or someone to come forward. Jon draws his sword and roars a challenge, he is old but he knows how to fight. The first man he fights is a big brute, Jon draws immense satisfaction from cutting him down, the second man is around Jon’s size and age, but he gives more of a fight, cutting and slashing, before he too falls down to his death. And then he comes, the man who has haunted Jon’s dreams for nigh on fifty years, the man who took Jeyne from him, a giant amongst men, he comes and Jon rides out to meet him. They fight, swing, block, swing, block on and on until they are both falling down to their knees bleeding and dying, Jon groans and then he sees her, and she smiles.

 


	17. The End

****

**6 th Month of 288 A.C. Stormlands**

**King Robert I Baratheon**

The war, it had come as he had thought it would. He had waited for years, wanting it come, desiring it to come and for him to take the revenge he felt he was owed. The Targaryens had cheated him of his revenge during the rebellion, and now he was determined to ensure it was had. That it was the silver cunt, and not his brother, leading the host was something that made it all the nicer. The silver cunt who had taken Lyanna, and Lyanna, the woman who had spat on his family, on him, she was his queen now supposedly, and it was time, time for his revenge.

That Ned had sided with the Targaryens had come as a big blow to him, he had still thought that his friend was his friend, and yet it seemed that his friend was also a traitor, being a traitor it seemed ran in the family. Robert would have the man killed himself when the time was right, when he was done with this fool and his army. Gods the anger within him was so strong was now building within him and he was determined to make sure that it came out of him now. There was much and more that needed to be done with the realm, changes that needed to be made, and people who needed to be destroyed.

The men were alive with the action that was coming toward them, Robert was glad of that, he had not been sure how the men would react to him, coming from the crownlands as they did. The crownlands had traditionally been loyal to the dragons, and as such Robert had been surprised that they had come to march for him so willingly, they had proven their mettle during the heat of battle against Connington and his little shit of an army, and now they were going to fight the silver cunt and his army, and Robert could not wait to fight him, and kill him for good.

They rode forward, pushing through the men that were coming toward them, Robert had his hammer ready, preparing for their lances, and he would not bother with the lances, they were not for real men, real men did not fight with lances, they fought with their weapons from the off. Robert swings his hammer as the first man comes toward him, he swats him down, laughing as the man falls down to his death, he continues onward, his Kingsguard at his side, the Kingsguard, what a useless institution, created because the Targaryens were fools and could not defend themselves. Onward they ride, he swings his hammer and another man falls down, Robert roars and moves onward, looking for the man who caused his life’s hell.

He swings his hammer, feeling the crunch of bone on it, and he laughs. He feels so alive, so very alive, it is something that he has not felt in a long time, and now he feels it he will not let it go now. He swings his hammer and more and more of these fools fighting for the silver cunt, all of them are falling down, their heads broken, there is blood pouring down onto the ground and he feels alive, so very alive. Onward he goes, swinging down and up, there and there more men are coming toward him and they are falling, falling down and breaking themselves on his hammer. Onward, onward, more and more, the blood is rushing toward his main enemy, he can see him somewhere, somewhere, somewhere there and on this path he goes.

More men come toward him and more men fall, his horse is beginning to tire now, and there are now more men of his that are falling down. He seethes at that, and now begins prowling toward the enemy lines, he can see a flash of white nearby and he charges toward it, roaring, and screaming the words he has long wanted to say. “Come here you coward, fight me and die, come here and face your destiny, and die like a man.” He bellows, swatting down more men, and more and more and more.

It seems the coward’s men are acting as his shield for they come charging toward him, bellowing at him, demanding he throw down his weapons and resign his post. He laughs and continues killing them, swinging his hammer, onward it goes, more and more men fall before him, and more and more rise. He swings and they fall, he rides and they come back once more, more of them, always more, and it seems they have not learned their lesson, he continues to kill them, and his hammer is covered with blood. So much blood, it seems his reign is made within blood, he does not have a problem with that, on it went, through the fog of the war, his hammer his constant companion, and then he sees him.

The prick is dressed in black as night armour, his Kingsguard at his side fighting, Robert roars and the man looks at him. Robert, speeds his horse on and charges toward the man, his hammer at the ready. He knocks two men out of the way, and then another, and another, and then he is before him. Rhaegar Targaryen, the fool, the cur, he roars and then they clash. Sword on hammer, sparks begin to fly, Robert makes his move, and he breaks the lock and begins moving toward pummelling Rhaegar Targaryen. He gets a few good blows in, but misses a few as well, Rhaegar manages to hit him as well, Robert roars at this, and continues swinging his hammer. On and on they go, forward and backwards, through thick and thin, the push is something, it is most definitely something. He grunts with the effort, but continues anyway.

His vision is growing blurry, but he continues to fight, he hits Rhaegar hard with his hammer, and he sees the man wince, but then the man hits his helmet, and Robert’s vision continues to falter, but onward he fights. And then it happens, the world begins going black, and he begins to fall, fall, fall, the ground is a welcoming blow when it comes.

* * *

 

**9 th Month of 288 A.C. King’s Landing**

**King Rhaegar I Targaryen**

It was done, he was king, and the thing he had looked for, for five years was now finally his. The fighting in the Stormlands had been something fierce, it had raged and raged, and he had taken more than one wound during the fighting. And then Baratheon had come to fight him, and he had thought that that might be it, but he had survived. Somehow he had survived, that was something he was thankful for, that he had managed to survive and now, well now he was haunted by the image of Baratheon falling down and creeping its way into his mind, it haunted him but slowly he hoped for it to fade.

His mother and siblings had come back to King’s Landing as well, though his mother was in ill health, and that was something he was desperately worried about. He did not know what to make of that, he did not know what was wrong with her nor what was going to make her better, it was frustrating, he was very desperate, very desperate for her to heal, but there were many other things that needed to be done. His coronation had taken place and had been something that had been a burden on him, he and Lyanna had been crowned, and he had taken the crown of his ancestor and made sure to make the statement that this was a new age for his dynasty.

His first court session was in now in place as he looks around the room, he sees some very prominent figures there, men who have helped him regain his throne, and he feels very grateful for that. Clearing his throat he speaks. “My lords and ladies, I thank you all for coming. It has been a long time coming, many decisions were made in the past that have cost us many things, but that is in the past now. It is time for us to look toward the future and to ensure that the land is safe and secure for our children. The present is the perfect time for that, and so it is with that in mind that I make these next few pronouncements.” He takes a deep breath and then continues. “Lords Tywin Lannister, Jon Arryn, Robert and Stannis Baratheon have been stripped of their lordships and attainted. In their place, Tyrion Lannister, Harrold Hardying and Renly Baratheon and Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen shall assume their lordships.” He pauses and there is some murmuring at that, but he continues. “Robert Baratheon’s wife Cersei and his son Joffrey are to be separated, Cersei is to join the Silent Sisters and Joffrey is to join the Night’s Watch.” Again there is murmuring, but Rhaegar merely ignores it, and then continues. “Lord Eddard Stark is confirmed as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, Lord Edmure Tully is confirmed as Lord of Riverrun and Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, Prince Doran as Prince of Dorne, Lord Maron Greyjoy as Lord of the Iron Islands.” The Iron Islands had been in the midst of their own war during this war, but it seemed things had calmed down now. He takes another breath and then says. “As for our small council, we have named Eddard Stark as hand of the king, Lord Rodrik Harlaw as master of ships, Lord Mathis Rowan as master of laws, Lord Varys as master of whispers, Grand Maester Gormon, Lord Wyman Manderly as master of coin and finally Ser Gerold Hightower as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.” He finishes then, stands and takes his wife’s hand, walks out of the throne room smiling. It has begun, and it has ended. He is king and now the games can begin.


End file.
